The Misadventures of Rick Cloud, PI
by Chris-Sasami-Bunny
Summary: He's just an ordinary bike mechanic and private investigator. She's just a grieving widow going through a mid-life crisis. And then there's the watcher who does a lot more then just observe and record. What could possibly go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Author's Note: I wrote this story in November of 2010 for Nanowrimo If you are like me, and like to have a mental image for people, Emmy is a green-eyed Jessica Alba, and Jeff Read is Jensen Ackles. At least, if this ever became a TV show, that's who I would want to play them.

This story is completely written, it has a being middle and end (though I won't at this point call it finished) and will all end up on here sooner or later. It is being Beta'd by the best Beta in the world who I will call Miss Sillivan! I am so grateful she can read my mind!

Chapter 1

It was a clear, sunny morning in May. Rick Cloud, the Immortal formerly known as Richie Ryan, had moved to Florida four years ago. He had thought the weather would be nothing but beautiful sunsets and sunny days with the occasional showers. No one had warned him that it would rain cats and dogs the entire day. This was especially true during the summer months of June and July. Today, however, was one of those perfect days that are seen in all the vacation videos.

Rick parked his bike on the sidewalk and began opening the gate that protected his shop. That was the other thing that had really surprised him about Florida: it had a pretty high crime rate. He hadn't really expected that; especially not in a smaller city like Fort Myers. Then again, he'd originally wanted to move to Miami so, technically, he couldn't complain.

He was a motorcycle repair shop owner. It was small, but always busy. If there was one nice thing about Florida, it was that a person could ride a motorcycle all year long. No one worried too much about the weather. For Rick it also meant having a larger clientele.

On top of being known as the best bike mechanic in town, Rick was also a private detective. He liked making a little extra cash on the side. As an immortal, he could use some danger in his life to keep him sharp.

Today, his day started like any other: with a couple of bikes to repair. Later he had an appointment with Mrs. Chase. Jeff Read, his partner and best friend, would be there for the meeting. Jeff's presence always calmed him. Yes, Rick was in a great mood. He felt he was ready for anything.

By mid-afternoon, he was almost positive today would be a typical day. Around five in the evening, he would close the shop. After closing, he would do more digging into the kidnapping investigation they were working on. It was the only other case they had, aside from Mrs. Chase's not cheating husband.

Rick had to laugh to himself about the 'Chase' case. Oh, Mr. Chase was up to something all right, but it definitely wasn't an affair…unless he was gay and into men ten years older than himself. Not that this was impossible in the grand scheme of things.

The kidnapping case, though, was the case on his mind as he took the tires off of a Kawasaki Vulcan. The case Jeff had taken without consulting him. Well, that case, and his past. Back in 2006, when he first moved to Florida, he'd had very few clients. Rick knew that was normal for a new small business, and he had been fine with it. After all, he'd made plenty of money before moving to Florida. The point was to "retire", in a sense.

That was in the beginning. Then, he had fixed the bike of some guy from one of the two local gangs. The other gang told Rick to back off…but that was not his style. He'd been taught a lot of martial arts during his first five or so years of being Immortal. He had continued to improve and practice even after the lessons had ended. Threats didn't go over well. He'd made an _impression_ on the gang leaders. Afterward, he informed both sides that he was Switzerland. Anybody could come to his shop to get their bike fixed. Now, everyone came there, and everyone was referred there too. No one fixed bikes except Rick. There were other mechanics capable of it, but no one was willing to face the threat of the gangs. It didn't even matter if it was a tire replacement. You didn't go to a tire store. You came to Rick's Bike Repair. Rick had a vast clientele now. So vast, he had two other mechanics working at the shop with him. It bothered him, sometimes, that other honest mechanics were under threat for doing something as simple as changing a tire… As he was thinking this, the front door opened, the bell ringing, and a familiar sensation swept over him.

Rick's first thought was that his sword was in the office; where he usually kept it. He tightened his grip on the wrench in his hand and stood up, looking towards the lobby. He walked into the lobby and found a young-seeming woman standing by the door. The woman was wearing a lightweight, blue trench coat, despite the fact that it was seventy-five degrees outside. Rick's posture remained rigid and he continued to grip the wrench. The woman was carrying a sword in her trench coat. Rick could tell by the way it hung slightly lower on one side than the other. "Can I help you?" He asked, still on the defensive. He wanted his sword.

The woman smiled. She looked very young. People would probably guess her to be somewhere between eighteen and twenty-two…but Rick knew that meant nothing. She was an immortal. She could be thousands of years old. She had light, olive skin, which made her look European. Her hair was black and curly. She also had the deepest green eyes Rick had ever seen. "Yes, actually, I think you can," she replied in answer to his query. "Are you Rick Cloud?"

Rick nodded. "That's what everyone around here calls me."

The woman smiled again. It was an enchanting smile: the kind that pulled you in. "Well, it seems, Mr. Cloud, that you are the only person in this entire area who knows how to fix a motorcycle."

Rick laughed wryly. "Then you were referred by more than one mechanic, I take it."

"There are three much closer to my apartment building. Yet, not a single one would take my bike. Quite a business you must be running."

He tone seemed light, but the facts still stung his pride. Rick shrugged. "I get by." He was still holding the wrench with a tight grip. Immortals could be deceiving.

The woman took off her trench coat and laid it on a chair. There was an audible clink as steel hit steel. It was a gesture of good faith. "My name is Emerald Wallace, but most people call me Emmy." She paused as if waiting for a reply; when it didn't come she continued. "I would really appreciate it if you could have a look at my bike."

"Any idea what's wrong with it?" Rick asked, loosening his grip on the wrench and walking forward. He moved closer to Emmy, but stopped just shy of a sword's length from her.

"Not a clue. I have never owned a bike before. It was sort of a fling…you see my husband recently passed away."

"I'm sorry to hear that. How long were you married?" He was proud of how naturally he could ask that question.

"Fifty years. He wasn't one of us, but was a good man all the same." She looked wistful.

He smiled, slightly soothed by the emotion in her expression. "Well, is the bike here? Can I take a look?"

"Sure." Emmy led the way out the front door to her bike, which was sitting in a parking spot on the street.

"Did you ride it here?" Rick asked, as he walked toward it.

"No, the last garage I visited brought it for me. They told me to go get you while they unloaded it."

Rick nodded. "Do you have the key on you?"

"Yeah, catch." Emmy tossed the key to him.

He caught it and immediately put it in. He started the engine, but could tell right away by the sound of it that something was wrong. Turning it off again, he held onto the key, and headed back inside. Looking over his shoulder at her, he began talking. "It looks like it just needs regular maintenance. It's a 2007 Harley Super Glide, right?"

"Yes," Emmy said. "So, what exactly is maintenance?"

"Clean everything inside off. Put in new spark plugs. It's the same thing you should do for a car every 6 months. It's just that if you don't do it on a motorcycle then things get dicey." He turned to look at Emmy. "Let me open the garage door and I'll wheel her inside. It might be a couple days before I get to her, though. Do you have other transportation?"

Emmy nodded.

"Good. Then I'll leave you with Mike for a sec so you can fill out some paperwork."

Emmy laughed. "Okay, then."

Rick stopped. "Have I said something funny?"

"Not exactly; it's just…you are _all_ business."

"Well, you _did_ come here to get your bike fixed, right?"

"Yes, but…" Emmy stopped, and shook her head slightly, "never mind. Thank you for your help, Mr. Cloud."

"You're welcome." Rick headed back into the garage and called for Mike.

"Yeah, boss?" Mike asked as he came running up to Rick.

"Go help the young lady with her paperwork and send her on her way."

Mike looked through the door. His eyes shone with appreciation. "Thank you, sir!"

Rick rolled his eyes. "Try hard to look professional, will you?"

"Absolutely," Mike replied, grinning.

Rick went to the garage door and hit a button to open it. Then, he went outside and grabbed Emmy's bike. He wondered what she was doing with a motorcycle. It was obvious she knew nothing about them. Some form of immortal mid-life crisis after the death of her husband, perhaps?

Just as Rick began rolling the bike into the garage, he heard another woman's voice call his name. This time it was a voice he recognized, and was, more or less, expecting. He turned to greet her, setting the bike back on its kickstand. "Mrs. Chase, you're early. I thought you were going to be here at four-thirty."

"I was supposed to; but then I made an appointment with my manicurist, and the only good time for her today was four-thirty. It was rather last minute, you know. An emergency happened this morning, and I just have to get it fixed. I figured I'd just come by early and see what you have. That's all right, isn't it?"

Mrs. Chase was a millionaire's wife. She was drop-dead gorgeous and she knew it. Even now, in her forties, she was exceedingly vain. You fit things into _her_ schedule, or you didn't fit them in at all.

She had noticed her husband acting strangely, recently. She thought he was having an affair. She found Rick's detective company in the yellow pages, and started having Rick follow her husband in the evenings. What Mrs. Chase didn't know was that she'd been totally wrong. Her husband hadn't been having an affair at all. What he was doing was quite different.

"Well, I have a lot I can tell you," said Rick, "but my partner and photographer Jeff—you remember Jeff: lovely brown hair, pretty green eyes—he's not going to be here with the pictures for at least another ten minutes."

"Well, whatever you have will do, I suppose." Mrs. Chase sighed. "Though I was really hoping to see the pictures."

Rick nodded. "If you can just head into my office, I'll take this bike into the garage and get cleaned up."

"Of course, dear; I'll go straight in." As Mrs. Chase made her way to his office, Rick couldn't help chuckling to himself. The whole process with her had been one of the most amusing ventures of his investigative career. She was such an interesting woman.

With the bike squared away and his hands clean, he went through the lobby to go to his office and found Mrs. Chase had not gone there after all, but was chatting with Emmy.

"Well, my dear, if you ever think about it, you really must call me. I'm a wonderful agent, you know. I can get you into any modeling company you want. You have the most beautiful eyes." Mrs. Chase handed Emmy a card, which the other woman graciously accepted, and then Mrs. Chase headed toward Rick.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cloud, dear, but she is so beautiful. Isn't she just striking? I would just _die_ if I could get her to sign with me. Can't you see her on a magazine cover? Those cheekbones, that hair, those eyes!" Mrs. Chase clapped her hands together. "Just gorgeous! You _must_ ask her out, Mr. Cloud. She is just too stunning."

"Mrs. Chase; I'm not in the habit of asking out my customers. It's not professional." Rick sat behind his desk and pulled out the file on Mr. Chase to show her.

She would not be deterred. "But certainly for a beauty like that you could make an exception. I mean, honestly, Mr. Cloud. . .a man as handsome and mature as you really should get married." As was her habit, she was already sitting down, and lighting up a cigarette.

Rick often reflected that the woman had been born just a few years too late. He could just imagine her in a black dress, white gloves that went to the elbows, with an old-fashioned cigarette holder in her hand. She even talked like a '40s movie star. He responded calmly, "I'll give it some thought. Now, let's talk about your husband. He's not cheating."

Mrs. Chase sat up. "Oh? Then he's not having secret meetings at The Edison?"

"I didn't say that. I just said that he wasn't cheating—unless he's turned gay, anyway. The secret meetings he's been having at The Edison every Thursday for the past four weeks have been with a lawyer by the name of John Arnold." Rick pulled out a paper that had the esteemed Mr. Arnold's picture on it, along with a list of the man's accomplishments and past sins. The sins were lacking. If he was corrupt, then he had gotten away with it so far.

Mrs. Chase grabbed the paper and clutched her hand to her chest. "Then he's planning to divorce me! How dreadful when I love him so much."

Jeff came through the office door right then, and Rick was glad to see him. Jeff cast him a quick grin before schooling his features to a professional smile and spoke to her. "Really, Mrs. Chase, I think you're far too worried. Mr. Arnold is a lot of things, but a divorce lawyer isn't one of them. As far as we can tell, he's an estate attorney. Here." Jeff set a stack of photographs on the desk. The top one showed two men sitting at a table in _The Edison_ , a classy restaurant in the city.

While Mrs. Chase was looking at the photos, Jeff mouthed to Rick, "Who's the hottie?" and indicated Emmy in the lobby with a casual turn of his shoulder.

Rick rolled his eyes. "Tell you later," he mouthed back, just as Mrs. Chase began to speak.

"How do you know he's not doing a divorce special for my husband?" She looked worried.

"Because, Mrs. Chase," Jeff began, sliding into the chair beside her, "I called his office as if I was a client. Mr. Arnold refuses to take on any divorce cases whatsoever; it's a private policy of his. I guess he doesn't approve, or something. He's been married for thirty-five years." Jeff rifled through the photos, pulling out one from the bottom. "This is a picture of Mr. Arnold with his wife, Maria. Also, his focus seems to be in drawing up wills or handling estate settlements. I wish I could give you the official names, but I'm not a lawyer. Basically, what we are saying is that your husband isn't having an affair or trying to leave you. It seems he's decided to make a will. Why he's kept that from you I couldn't say; but I doubt it was done in order to leave you out of it. Besides, you've made enough money on your own to not even have to worry about needing any of his."

Mrs. Chase nodded. "Do you think you could find out what it is my husband's doing, then?" Mrs. Chase stood, getting into her purse.

"Well, that's the tricky part," replied Rick. He and Jeff stood as well. Mrs. Chase always insisted on good manners. If you wanted to work for her, you learned that quickly. "We'd have to enter the restaurant and sit practically right next to him to find out anything; or break into the lawyer's office. This is legal information we're talking about, and it's kept pretty confidential. Perhaps you can just ask your husband why he's making a will."

"What? No. David would never allow that. He's very reserved about matters of business. I couldn't possibly ask him to tell me. It would upset his delicate nature; he'd think I didn't trust him."

The sheer irony of that statement caused the two men exchange amused glances, then Rick spoke again. "Of course, Mrs. Chase; but this sort of information is a lot harder to get ahold of."

"Whatever the cost, I will cover it." She pulled out a large stack of bills from her purse; and set it on the desk, splitting it in half. "That's two thousand apiece for the first two weeks, and I'll bring in a second batch sometime later in the week. I can't take it out all at once, or David might notice."

Rick nodded. "Well, Mrs. Chase, I guess we'll be seeing you again. In the meantime, I hope your nail appointment is a success."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Cloud. You are a doll. Oh, and you, too, Jeff." She stroked Jeff's chin. "Such beautiful eyes." With that, she left the room and headed out to her car.

When she was well out of hearing distance, they looked at each other again. "I really thought they stopped making women like that in the '40s, but apparently I was wrong," Jeff said, rubbing at his chin as if to remove something that was left there.

Rick laughed. "Yeah, she does give off the feeling that she just stepped out of an old time movie."

"So," Jeff said, "tell me about the girl in the lobby; she's gorgeous."

"She's immortal," Rick said flatly.

"Really?" Jeff asked excitement to rival a puppy filled his voice. "What's her name? I'll look her up."

"No," Rick said, his tone even. "She's a client, nothing more. Now, if you don't mind, I'm not partial to having other immortals around. I think I'm going to send her on her way."

"Oh, come on Ric- _k_! Why? She's pretty; and you used to hang out with other immortals all the time." Jeff always called him Ric- _k_ when they were alone. It was an inside joke: Jeff's way of reminding Rick that he knew it wasn't his real name. There was a flicker of frustration in his eyes, too for he was a Watcher, and now to look her up he would have to be less than a friend.

"That was then. This is now. Now, I'm extremely happy with my boring life as a private detective and bike repairman. Besides," he continued his train of thought, "when has Rick Cloud _ever_ been known to hang out with other immortals? Name me one time, aside from the occasional discussion with Marcus." Rick folded his arms and tried to both loom and glower.

Jeff bit his lip and looked sheepish, as Rick knew he would. "Okay, so it would be a bit out of character for Rick Cloud, but considering the inducement, I don't think anyone would think it was _that_ odd."

"That _anyone_ wouldn't happen to be your little group of poker buddies would it?" Rick felt a pang of hurt at this reminder that Jeff was not simply a friend, but had an ulterior motive for being near him.

Jeff sighed, and in that moment Rick was reminded of how young Jeff was. "Look, you know I've kept your secret from Headquarters. Why can't a little bit of Richie Ryan come back to play? No one but you and I will know."

That was a bit like taking a blade to the stomach. He had to swallow that pain. "Richie Ryan is buried in Paris; remember. So how about you let me be, okay?" He was trying to temper his frustration with the Watcher side of Jeff.

Jeff sighed dramatically. "Whatever, I have to get to the paper anyway. You have anything important happen recently that I should add to your file?"

Ah. Transparency as a peace offering. Rick looked at Jeff wryly. "Do I _ever_ have anything to add when you're not here? Jeff, you are the only reason I get into trouble. You are the most impetuous Watcher I've ever met."

"Which isn't saying a lot; you haven't met very many of us." Jeff gave him a cheeky grin.

"Yeah…well most Watchers aren't Peter Parker on the side." Rick headed for the door. "Now, I really need to do something about Ms. Wallace, if you don't mind."

Jeff absorbed the name for later research. "Of course not; I'll come with. Like I said, I need to get out of here, anyway."

Rick walked up to the counter and smiled rather toothily at Mike and Emmy. "Mike, you gonna finish putting that bike back together today or not?"

Mike immediately headed for the garage, "Sorry Rick. She's just a sweetheart," He called back over his shoulder.

"Really, Mr. Cloud, it was my fault. I can be really charming when I want to be, and well, it's hard to resist for some." Emmy was leaning against the counter, her trench coat slung over her arms.

"Don't worry about it Ms. Wallace; Mike's not really in trouble. I just thought it was time he got back to work for the day." Rick leaned against the counter as well, his manner still slightly hostile. "Now tell me… what else can I do for you?"

The hostility of Rick's stance didn't seem to bother the Immortal in front of him. "I was just wondering if you'd like to have lunch sometime. After all, I'm new to the area; I'd like to get to know some of the… people."

Rick smiled politely. "No, thank you, Ms. Wallace. I'm sure there are lots of nice young men, like Mike, who would be happy to get to know you better, and could tell you all about the… people."

"Or me," Jeff said, taking Emmy's arm. "I'm Jeff Read, one of Rick's business partners; and I'd be more than happy to take you to any place in the city." Jeff was leading Emmy out by now, but it didn't stop Rick from drilling a scowl into the back of the young man's head.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Panzer et al. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 2

It had been three days since Emmy had her bike brought over to Rick's to have it repaired. Jeff had taken her out for coffee twice; he was planning to do so again today. Jeff wasn't sure how he felt about Emmy. He was sure, other than finding her extremely attractive, that he wasn't "into" her. Besides, his career as a Watcher—even the specialized kind that he was—would be over if he started "dating" an immortal. That was considered crossing the line. Coffee was safe. Getting coffee was something you could do with your college roommate, a professor, or the newspaper delivery boy. Okay, maybe not the newspaper delivery boy…but still, it was in the friends' zone, even if Eddie Izzard disagreed*.

Jeff had decided to meet Emmy at Rick's today. It was a good plan for two reasons. First, Emmy worked closer to the shop than to the paper. Second—and this was Jeff's favorite reason—he knew it would piss off Rick. It was gratifying to hear Rick swear as he looked up. "Seriously?" his friend said, with irritation, as he exited his office.

Jeff watched as Rick strode confidently toward Emerald Wallace. As he drew near to Emmy and began to speak, Jeff slipped from the office to butt into the conversation.

"Ms. Wallace, what an unexpected surprise. I thought I made it clear that your bike would be here for a while." Rick's demeanor seemed to Jeff, only slightly less hostile than it had been the first time the two had spoken.

"Oh, she's not here about the bike, Rick. I asked her to meet me here because it was closer to our destination than her workplace, or you know, mine." Jeff told this to Rick as he slapped him affectionately on the shoulder and then stepped past him, grinning at Emmy. He put out his arm for her—as if he were an escort—and she took it. The smile on her face told Jeff she was amused by his stunt.

"Wait," Rick began, looking confused, "where are you two going exactly?"

Jeff shrugged. "Out for coffee again. I'm taking Emmy to all the best places in town. As you know, I use caffeine as fuel for both jobs, which makes me an expert on the brew."

The look on Rick's face momentarily turned to shock, but quickly melted back into indifference. "Right, well, have fun then, kids."

"We always do," Emmy said, speaking for the first time since she'd arrived. "Don't work too hard, Mr. Cloud."

Jeff and Emmy strode out the door arm in arm. Jeff knew he should be a little more worried: after all, Emmy was an immortal…which meant she had a Watcher. Still, when an immortal suddenly moved to a new location, it usually took a while before the Watcher was able to follow. Assigning a new Watcher, if the current one couldn't or wouldn't move, took even longer. Jeff had a feeling he was in the clear—for a few more days, at least—and it had been so fun to bother Rick. The aftermath might be a bit of a windstorm, but Jeff was good at handling his immortal.

The coffee date with Emmy had gone off smoothly. The thing about coffee dates with Emmy was they always seemed to be fluff conversations. Jeff felt comfortable with her. It was as if he had known her his whole life. They talked about nothing and everything because they felt safe sharing opinions with each other. The only thing wrong with their conversations was that they were always tiptoeing around secrets. Jeff knew that about Emmy; he was almost positive she knew it about him. Even so, it made life feel a little easier than it had felt a week ago.

Seven days. That's how long Casey Anderson had been missing. Most missing persons cases were solved in the first 48 hours, or not at all. Jeff had told himself that he wasn't going to think about that. He _could_ solve this case, back-up or no back-up.

His anxiety over Casey was the reason he was annoyed about the late night meeting with Ms. Green at the paper. What could the woman possibly want after regular business hours? He couldn't make even the **morning** addition with anything this late. Still, she had been determined to see him—which was cutting into his continued search for Casey—and putting Jeff in a foul mood.

He tapped lightly on the open office door and waited for the 'dragon lady' to look up. "You wanted to see me Ms. Green?"

"Yes, Jeff. Come inside and close the door," Ms. Green said, as she finished marking the page in front of her.

Jeff followed instructions and took a seat across from the grumpy older woman.

She looked up at him and said, "Jeff, I already know that I don't have much time left here at the paper. Another five to seven years and my eyesight will be shot, my hands will be shaky, and I will probably start thinking a cat stuck in a tree is news. I've come to a decision: I want you to replace me."

Jeff was absolutely stunned. He wasn't even a full time employee of the paper. He was a photographer, who wrote short articles, now and then, for a little extra cash. "Uh, Ms. Green, I don't know what to say."

Ms. Green smiled. It made her look like the receptionist of Monster's Inc. "Of course you don't," she said. "Your gratitude is touching. Let me make a few things clear. In order for the paper to even consider you for this position you have to get your master's degree, which, I've noticed, you are lacking. That could take you up to four years. Then, for the next year, you will shadow me. That way you can learn my job and seamlessly take over as I retire." She leaned back in her chair, but only a little, to let Jeff know she expected a reply.

Jeff, however, was the most stunned he'd ever been in his life. This was a chance of a lifetime. He should be thrilled. The only thing he felt was dread. "I guess I'll start studying for the GRE." It was the only thing he could think to say, even if it wasn't really what he wanted. _'As soon as Casey is safely back in her mother's arms.'_ He added to himself.

"Excellent choice Jeff, I look forward to seeing you grow as a journalist." Ms. Green turned back to her news print, signaling to Jeff that this was the end of the interview.

Jeff walked out of the office still feeling a bit numb. Stacy, Ms. Green secretary, accosted him as he was leaving. "Did she ask you?"

Jeff wouldn't exactly call it _asking_ , but replied anyway. "Yeah she did. Looks like more school for me."

"You're so lucky. It's such a great honor! You know, you're the only person she's even _mentioned_ for this position." Stacy hugged him. "I just know you'll do great!"

"Thanks," Jeff replied, feeling himself slipping down the rabbit hole. It had already been a crazy week. He hoped nothing else would happen.

Rick stalked back and forth across his living room. He wasn't normally a pacer, but this situation called for pacing. It was all Jeff's fault, anyway. _Everything_ explosive in his life right now was Jeff's fault: the Casey Anderson case; the fact that he was a detective at all; and, of course, his main reason for pacing—Emerald Wallace.

It had been 11 days since she'd walked into his office with her stupid bike. How had his world turned upside down so quickly? He had no idea what it was about her that got under his skin. Her presence drove him crazy like no other immortal he'd ever known. There were other immortals in the area… He'd even _talked_ to them on occasion. None of them had the same effect on him as she'd had. There was something about Emerald…

Well, for one thing, she was beautiful. Drop-dead gorgeous came to mind when he thought of her. Perfect curves, just the right color of olive skin, and those green eyes that made you think of a cat stalking its prey.

Nothing he said or did upset Emerald. She was impervious to sarcasm, hostility, and snide remarks. He'd thought that after she left with her bike today he'd be done with her. That would've made him happy. He knew it wasn't to be. _Jeff_ wanted to continue his ongoing friendship with the woman. He'd made that pretty clear in their conversation this morning.

 _"Did you know Emerald was a thief like Amanda?" Jeff had asked him._

 _"I was a thief once too, you know," Rick replied, rolling his eyes._

 _"No, you were a teenage crook. 'Thieving' is what masters do," Jeff retorted._

 _"Did she tell you this, or did you finally look up her chronicle and find out who her Watcher is?" Rick asked._

 _"She told me. She implied it was when she was 'younger.'" Jeff actually held up air quotes. "I seriously wish I could just tell her… I mean, at least that I know about immortals. It would make our conversations_ _ **so**_ _much easier."_

 _"Well, I'm glad you can't. Your job is to watch me, remember, and I want nothing to do with her. I can't even understand why you're dating her. You know it can't go anywhere, and as soon as her Watcher gets here, there's going to be trouble. Her bike's out of the shop now. Let her find her own damn places for coffee." Rick knew he sounded jealous, but he was frustrated with the turn of his best friend's loyalty._

 _"Okay," Jeff said. "One, I'm not dating her. Two, even if her Watcher does come down here, so long as I keep my oath, I'll be fine. What is your problem with her, anyway? She's really nice Rick, if you'd just open your eyes and see it. It's not like she's after your head. So what is bothering you?" Jeff's tone told Rick he (Jeff) was frustrated, too._

 _Rick never got a chance to answer, as Jeff's cell phone went off right then. He held up a hand for Rick to stay silent._

" _Hello," Jeff said, then listened for a few beats before replying to the caller, "Guess I'll get my camera and head over, then." He closed the phone and looked up at Rick. "Something big is going down between the police and a shooter on Fowler and Hunter. I've got to run." He then headed out to do his other job._

That had ended the conversation, but Rick was fixated on the question. What was it about Emerald that bothered him? Why did he have this overwhelming need to push her away? He stopped pacing and flopped onto his couch. He seriously wished he had Methos' talent for molding into the furniture. So far he had not succeeded in learning the old man's trick. He turned on the TV and, with the practiced skill of a 1980s teen, zoned out with a mindless sitcom.

*If you look up Eddie Izzard: Coffee on Youtube, you can probably find the minute thirty second video that explains that reference.

Author's Note: I wrote this story in November of 2010 for Nanowrimo. My mom is beta-ing, but any leftover mistakes are mine. I want anyone who is reading this to know that this story is actually complete. It has a beginning, middle, and ending. It is going to take a while to get all of it online, because when it comes to grammar, I suck. So, in order to try and make it enjoyable…I am taking my time. That might mean another two years before the whole thing is cleaned up and online. If you'd like the rest you can PM your email to me, and I will send you the whole unedited version as it stands now.

Also, this chapter was a filler chapter I created when I reread the story not long ago. I realized that I left a huge gap in time between the first chapter and second chapter, and I never filled it in. At the time of Nanowrimo, I must have decided to just skip ahead and write what I knew was there, than forgot to fill in the blank. Thanks for your patience, hope you enjoy.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 3

Emmy watched the expression on Jeff's face change from light to grimly smug as he listened to the person on the other end of the phone call. "You're sure about this Sketchy?" he asked, as he wrote something down on a piece of paper. "No, look, if this pans out, I owe more than just a pizza and some beer." The other person talked for a moment. Jeff nodded jerkily. "I always do man, I always do."

He hung up the phone and smiled wickedly at Emmy. "Don't you just love good news?"

Emmy smiled back. "Yup. What was that about?"

"Just a lead on an old case of mine and Rick's that we thought had gone stale. I'll tell Rick about it, and we'll be on it tomorrow night. So, you know, coffee is out." He smiled again, transparently trying to look nonchalant.

Emmy nodded and moved the conversation back to where it had started before the phone call. In the two weeks that she had known Jeff, she had learned a lot about him. He was one of the few people she had met in the last half century that she enjoyed spending time with. If only there was a romantic spark, but there was not. Still, she loved spending time with him; learning about him.

One of the main things she had learned was his tell. Jeff lied a lot. Most people would believe him. He looked people in the eye when he talked, and his heart rate never increased. She had watched the pulse in his neck a few times. He probably would have been able to fool a lie detector test. He could not fool a six-hundred-year old thief. Emmy had too much practice spotting lies. She was the Patrick Jane* of the Immortal world.

Not that she minded Jeff's lies. They were usually harmless. Most of them were about his relationship with Rick Cloud. She wondered if he knew about Rick's immortality, but not hers, and so thought his boss was special and was careful to keep his secret. That was a logical reason for him to lie.

Tonight's lie bothered Emmy. They had missed their coffee date for the day because of an unexpected call from the paper. To make up for it, Jeff had invited Emerald to dinner. It had been going really well—as all time with Jeff did—until he got the phone call. Now, Emmy decided to end their dinner early, claim she had a headache, and follow Jeff. She wanted to know what was really going on, and why he was not planning on telling Rick about it.

Jeff stood still and listened intently. Whatever Rick might think, this case meant the world to him. He was going to save his Goddaughter, and that was all there was to it. Rick could help if he wanted, but Jeff had to find her.

His memory replayed the painful argument from two weeks ago, right after Casey had been kidnapped.

 _"What do you mean, you told Donna we'd help? Jeff_ _,_ _what were you thinking?!" Rick asked_ _,_ _his distress clear._

 _"I was thinking we are private detectives, finding kidnap victims is kind of what we do," Jeff_ _replied_ _. "Besides_ _,_ _this is my_ _ **Goddaughter**_ _,_ _Rick, I can't just sit around and let those buffoons at the police office go looking for her."_

 _"That is exactly what you are going to do," Rick said_ _flatly_ _._

 _"Uh, no it's not. I already told Donna we'd take the case," Jeff stated_ _, just as_ _flatly._

 _Rick's eyes burned._ _"Jeff_ _,_ _what is the number one rule_ _of_ _a detective?"_

 _"Always bring a lock pick?" Jeff asked back_ _,_ _confused._

 _"Never get personally involved in a case. When someone you care about is in trouble_ _,_ _emotions get in the way of clear judgment," Rick said. "This is exactly what happened here when you decided to take this case without asking your boss first."_

 _Jeff was stunned. He_ _ha_ _d expected Rick to back him up completely. Rick loved Casey. He_ _ha_ _d helped babysit her when her mother married Dale and they went on their honeymoon._ _He said numbly,_ _"You know, this is not what I thought you'd say."_

 _"I can tell," Rick said_ _, frowning at him._

 _"You know what? Fine. If you don't want to get involved with the case that's your business, but she's my Goddaughter, and I will find her. With or without you," Jeff_ _stormed out of the building, expecting Rick to follow him and apologize. He hadn't._

The next day, Emmy walked into their lives. With no leads, Jeff and Rick had never talked things out. So here he was, all alone, standing in a bush and hoping that Casey was in the apartment above him.

The most likely suspect in the kidnapping was her deadbeat father. Jeff knew who the father was. He also had the connections to find him, but that did not mean he knew how to get Casey back safely. Oh, he had snuck into plenty of places in his day, but never had he snuck out with a little girl. He knew this was going to be difficult. The first step was to find out if his source was right about her location. That meant surveillance, and figuring out how to reach the third floor without using the inside stairs.

Jeff was grabbed from behind, a hand covering his mouth. He tried to cry out and fight the grip but it was too strong. The voice in his ear was familiar. "Jeff, Jeff, it's me. It's okay." Emmy let him go and he whirled to face her.

"What on earth are you doing here?" he asked, his fright mutating to anger that came out in his harsh whisper.

"I was following you. After your friend called you at dinner... you seemed out of it. I was worried; so I decided to follow you. To try and keep you from doing something stupid." Emmy crossed her arms and regarded him with calculated interest. "So what was your plan?"

He struggled to control himself, and still could hear his own petulance. "Well, for your information I wasn't planning to do anything stupid. I was just planning on doing surveillance, okay?" He tried to look mature and in charge.

Emmy rolled her eyes. "From the bushes, where the only thing you can see is the balcony. And you can't even see that well because one: it's nighttime, and two: it has a screen. The purpose of apartment complexes like this one is to keep their clients safe from prying eyes. What is it you're trying to see anyway?"

He flinched from her steady gaze. "If there is a little girl being held in that apartment. It's a kidnapping case. She's my Goddaughter." It felt as though a great weight had lifted from his shoulders. He really liked Emmy. Over the past two weeks he had begun to trust her as much as he did Rick. _She can help me!_

Emmy nodded. "I understand your concern, but I can find a lot of easier ways to see what's in that apartment than sitting in the bushes at ten-thirty at night. If there is a little girl in there, she is probably sleeping. That makes looking for her now even more foolhardy."

"Look, if I try during the daytime, the guy who kidnapped her might recognize me. I may lose my only shot at getting her back." Jeff ruffled his hair with his hands. This whole situation was probably beyond him. He had seen Quickenings. He had seen Rick get into bar fights, and even been in a couple himself. Okay, more than a couple. Never before had he had a personal interest in what was happening, and it made being objective difficult, just as Rick had said it would. He hated it when his friend was right.

Emmy's gaze encompassed him, deep with experience and calm. "What you need right now isn't to try and watch this window all night for signs of life. You're not going to see anything. You need sleep. You think you know where the girl is, but these guys have made it impossible to see into the apartment. This is a sign that your presumption is correct. You need a plan to get inside, and that will require getting some rest. Go home Jeff. There's nothing more you can do for her tonight." Jeff started to protest, but Emmy grabbed him and started walking him towards his car. "Everything will be clearer in the morning. Now, go home."

There was a knock at Jeff's door the next morning at eight a.m. He ignored it at first, trying to bury himself under his covers, but it grew gradually louder and more impatient. Then he heard Emmy's muffled voice. "Jeff, open the door, or I will open it myself."

"You've gotta be kidding me," he said to himself, as he got up and headed to the door. He opened it and looked out at the woman on his porch. "What is with you? Do you just have no life, so you like messing with mine?"

"An interesting question; I'll have to think about the answer." She pushed the door open and strode towards the couch, where she sat down and regarded him with her arms stretched along its back and her legs crossed smugly. "First of all, you were right. The little girl is in that apartment."

"Wait, how did you find that out when you sent me home?! You didn't stick around that apartment all night waiting to see inside, did you?" Jeff crossed his arms over his chest, scowling.

Emmy snorted. "Hardly. I'm not a reporter, I'm a thief, remember? It's my job to figure out how to get into places people don't want me to get into. I found a clothing shop nearby, bought some supplies, and pretended to be a stripper. The music woke up your friend's daughter, and I got kicked out."

"Wait, did you just say you got into the apartment by acting like a stripper?" Jeff was staring at her, completely in shock.

"Um... yes. Why?"

"That's hot."

Emmy rolled her eyes at him, "Typical male response. Can we please get to the business at hand? We need to figure out a way to get that little girl out of there."

"Her name is _Casey_. By the way, didn't the bad guys get suspicious when they realized no one ordered a stripper?" he asked, sitting down on the couch next to her. He felt a little strange. Here he was, sitting next to gorgeous Emerald in a pair of boxers and a white t-shirt, plotting how to save Casey before breakfast. At the thought of breakfast, his stomach growled.

Emmy giggled. "You want to go out for breakfast and talk this out?"

"Only if I can shower and dress first. Hanging out in my pajamas isn't my favorite pastime."

"Sure, take your time," Emmy said.

Forty minutes later, the two of them were sitting in an IHOP discussing how to get Casey out. Emmy's eyes gleamed as she spoke. "I really think the best way is just breaking in through the front door. I can pick the lock. If the guard actually wakes up, we can knock him back out. You can get Casey. She knows you, right?" Jeff nodded and she continued, "Then we get right back out again. There are no more than three other people: two guards and then their leader. Some guy, I think they called him Dan."

"I figured it was Dan. He's Casey's sperm donor. This is so like him, too. He gives his daughter up for adoption to a great guy, then changes his mind because she's 'his blood'. He always was an arrogant jerk," Jeff scowled. Then he looked worried. "This is the thing though, Emmy. I'm not sure the two of us can take three guys by ourselves. I mean, I know you think you're tough, but this could get out of hand. There may be others nearby; like in another apartment that you didn't see."

Emmy decided to let his "you think you're tough" pass without comment. He did not know she was a six-hundred-year-old Immortal, after all. She nodded. "I'm aware. Whatever your former friend Dan is into: drugs, gambling, et cetera, he's starting to get a following... which is dangerous, for him and for us. Unless of course he's already a member of either the Thirteens or Slicers; then we are in a lot more trouble than he is."

Jeff sighed. "We need Rick. The thing is I don't know that he'll go for it, if you're involved."

"Yeah, he has a real soft spot for me, doesn't he?" Emmy said, dryly.

"Don't take it personally." Jeff touched her shoulder soothingly. "He's like that with all Immortals. He just had a bunch of bad crap happen to him his first few years in the Game. Now he has a chip on his shoulder that he refuses to get rid of."

Startled, Emmy stared sharply at Jeff. "You know about Immortals."

"I just think he..." Jeff, realizing his mistake, backpedaled mid-sentence. "Oh, ah… yeah, occupational hazard. You see your boss take a bullet for you and come back; he's gotta tell you something. In my case, he told me the truth."

Emmy relaxed a little. "So he told you I was one too. To explain why he's been so hostile?"

"Yup, and he's told me a lot about his history. We _are_ friends. So back to this kidnapping! You agree then, that we do need Rick?" Jeff's eyes pierced Emmy.

"If he'll go for it," she said, flipping her hair. "I mean, you've just admitted he thinks I'm a nuisance."

"I didn't say that..." Jeff began.

"You didn't have to," Emmy responded, cutting him off. "It's clear for the entire world to see. So, what are you going to do about it?"

Jeff pulled back and gave her a wide-eyed look. "Me? Why me? You're the one who's gotten yourself involved with this case without asking. You want to help? You get to talk to the man in charge." He crossed his arms, signaling that this was final.

She scowled at him, but she was not really angry. "Fine, but I want you there to back me up. I'll drop by the garage this afternoon. When's a good time for you?"

"I'm there every day from 3:30 to 4:30. It's like a ritual for us now."

Rick smiled as he saw Jeff enter the building. He looked well rested; which meant he had not been stupid last night. Maybe the kid was finally growing up. _Was I like this when I_ _was his age? Is that why everyone was always trying to tell me to chill out?_ Rick asked himself. He felt like a different person compared to his old days. He had learned to control his emotions better, and put most of them second to reason. Jeff was still very young. At twenty-four, he was still figuring out how to be an adult. On top of that, he was dealing with all the responsibilities of being a Watcher, and trying to be a detective-tough-guy on the side. Rick sometimes wondered if it had been a good idea to bring him into the business. Not that Jeff had given him a choice.

"Jeff, I'm glad to see you. I was afraid instead of writing news this week, you'd actually _be_ the news this week." He stood up and walked over to the sink. He turned on the water and started washing his hands.

"Yeah, well it was a close call. It seems, however, God has plans for my life," Jeff replied sarcastically. He often got like that when Rick underplayed his snooping abilities. "Sketchy called you too?"

Rick nodded. "Let's go to the office and have a tal..." he trailed off midsentence, a frustrated look on his face. "You wait here for me. I have something to take care of."

"I won't need to. Emmy's here to talk, too."

"Emmy? You've started calling her by her nickname? What is this? Jeff, are you switching sides on me?"

Jeff rolled his eyes, "You really are paranoid, you know that? The world, even the Immortal one, is not out to get you. Get over yourself. Emmy has graciously agreed to help us get Casey back." With those words, Jeff strode into the lobby. He grabbed Emmy's hand, then kissed her on the cheek and led her into the office. Rick saw her eyebrows climb to her forehead.

Rick, cursing in his head, followed. _And here I was just telling myself I am the master of my emotions_ , he thought.

"I still don't like that you're coming with us on this. I can get that door unlocked just as easily as you can," Rick said, scowling at Emmy.

Jeff glared fiercely at him. "We never said you couldn't, man. It's not about who was the better thief in their past life. We're talking about numbers, and a little girl's life. As far as I'm concerned, two Immortals are better odds than one... either one." He was getting tired of Rick's petulant anger. It seemed to him to show too clearly that Rick was still a very young Immortal.

Okay, so it was true that he usually seemed more mature than Jeff. Then again, most twenty-year old girls seemed more mature than Jeff. He liked it that way. People tended to be startled when he suddenly acted mature.

"What time are we planning on for this rescue anyway?" Emmy asked. As she spoke, she pulled out her phone, and looked at a calendar on it.

"Why? Do you have to try and find time in your busy schedule to fit it in?" Rick snapped snidely.

Emmy's gaze moved from her phone to light on his face. "Maybe I have a hair appointment that just can't wait," she told him, in her best Sophia Loren diva voice.

Jeff ignored their posturing. "I was thinking around midnight. You know, give the bad guys plenty of time to fall asleep and hopefully we won't have much of a fight." He glowered at them each in turn. "Unless that's past both of your bedtimes..."

Rick gave Jeff a meaningful, penetrating glare.

Emmy laughed. "I think I can fit midnight into my busy social schedule. What about you, Mr. Repair Man?" She looked over at Rick, smiling. She was a hard one to upset, though she could fake it when she wanted to.

"You forget the door closes at five pm. I'm free all night, every night," Rick replied.

"No wonder you're so worked up all the time. You just can't seem to scratch the itch," Emmy said, an unreadable smile on her face.

"Emmy, behave," Jeff entreated, though he wanted to laugh. It did seem true. He _had_ to check out her chronicles. She was just too interesting a person. She gave off sarcasm and snark, but was still in control of her emotions. Jeff wondered how old the little devilette was.

She grinned at him, then shrugged. "Well, since it's obvious I'm not wanted by at least half the company here, I'll head out. Meet you here at midnight?"

"Sounds good, doesn't it, Rick." Jeff looked at him with raised eyebrows.

Rick was still in his grouchy two-year old mode and replied, "Fine, but don't be late."

"Yes, your majesty, I bow to your wishes," Emmy replied obsequiously. With that, she was out the door, cruising into the afternoon.

"She is a real piece of work," Jeff said, with admiration.

"You want her, keep her. Just keep her away from me," Rick snapped, and headed back into the garage to close up for the day.

*Patrick Jane is a fictional character from a CBS television series called "The Mentalist." He uses body response to figure out if people are lying. I believe it ended early 2015.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 4

Jeff got onto his computer the moment he walked into his house. He had wanted to do this earlier, but there had been an article and picture to turn in at the newspaper. Then Lisa, beautiful Lisa, had asked him to dinner. Too bad the girl was not interested in him. No, Lisa liked to pry his brain for knowledge about the male gender. She was sort of dating some other guy in the newspaper office... it was a complicated relationship, from what Jeff could tell. The reason they had become friends at all was because Lisa was the one who edited Jeff's articles most of the time. She was smart, fun and funny. So how can you say no to dinner with someone like that, even if it is totally asexual?

So here he was at 6:30 at night, snooping into the history of Emerald Wallace aka Esmeralda de la Vega.

 _Born in 1383 in Madrid, Spain, died at the age of 19 in 1402, probably from poison. Found in 1404 by the Immortal Amanda. She had never encountered an Immortal before; only realized that she could not die. Spent two years training under Amanda, and then had many escapades with the older Immortal throughout the centuries. She was trained in Martial arts by May-Ling Shen and Duncan MacLeod. Spent time with Amanda's teacher Rebecca. Also spent time with Connor MacLeod, Robert and Angelina de Valicourt, etc. etc. Most recently widowed from husband of 51 years General David Stephan Wallace. The couple was married 1959 in New York and spent most of their time together in Pennsylvania._

Jeff stared at the list of names of Immortals with whom Emmy had associated before the 1960s. The list of names was extremely similar to the ones Rick had mentioned. The Immortals he had known before he changed his name, cut his ties, buried himself, and moved to South America.

Not a bad call really. He had learned some Spanish in Spain before. In spending three years down in South America, doing Heaven only knew what to create his fortune, he became fluent. The Spanish had come in handy here, too. He had quite a Hispanic clientele. Jeff often wondered if it had really been Duncan almost killing him for the third time that had turned Rick off from hanging out with other Immortals, or things that had happened during his time down in South America.

Not much was known about that time period. To keep Rick's past life buried, Adam Pierson and Joe had made everyone believe Richie Ryan was dead. That way, changing his name would work. Of course, it would not work forever. Not that Jeff planned on announcing anything to the Watchers. No matter how badly he was itching to get his hands on Richie Ryan's file. He knew that if he asked for it there would just be too many questions.

For now, Rick was still safe. The Watchers had not been able to follow the mysterious Rick Cloud at all in South America. It was not until he moved to New York to get his mechanics and business degrees that they caught up with him. By then, all the Watchers could do was to try and fill in the gaps. And to the Watchers, there were still a lot of gaps in Rick's timeline.

His knowledge of the Watchers had made him seek out his own. He had befriended the man who was his Watcher before Jeff: Harold Dune, and also befriended the head of the Watchers North American Sector, Jamie Allen. It had made it easier to get them to believe his, in Jeff's opinion, cockamamie story about being trained by Kol-tec in the nineties and running away from him after he "started to get weird." Kol-tec's abilities had always made him a hard Immortal to track; missing the short term training of a student would not have been that surprising. Jeff had never believed that story, so after a year or so of being Rick's Watcher, he had asked for the truth. Rick swore him to secrecy, but told him.

Jeff felt special not only because of his bond with his Immortal, but because of what he had managed to create in the Watchers, even before becoming Rick's. Because of his, Jamie's, Harold's, and Joe Dawson's efforts, a new division had been created among the ranks of the Watchers. This division was known as "The Servants". Not the grandest name, perhaps, but it worked. Servants were put under a special oath to observe, record, and help mankind. Which meant helping their good Immortals, if they so desired, take out the bad Immortals. They gave out chronicle information to their Immortal when it was needed. However, there was a clause: if their Immortal were to ever switch sides; they would have to terminate their mission. This would be done by either terminating themselves, before which they would try and inform the Watchers, or terminating their charge.

The cool thing about all this, other than carrying a cyanide tablet like a secret agent would, was that they had an extra tattoo under the first on their wrist, signifying that they were Servants, making a distinction between them and other Watchers. The Servants were still extremely rare. They were, for the most part, not supposed to reveal the existence of Watchers to anyone but their own assignment, and were advised to still try and remain aloof from their Immortal counterpart. Most Servants ignored this last part of the instructions. What was the fun of talking with your Immortal if you could not go to the bar and hang out with them on Saturday nights?

The problem with all of this right now was Emerald's Watcher. Jeff needed to find out who that was. Someone old and by the books, no doubt. They had a tendency to still have older Watchers on Immortals who were not prone to be very exciting. Emmy had been boring for the last fifty years. Jeff tapped at the keys and found a name and face to go with his data. _Jessica Lake, 45, married, husband is in research. Jessica is looking for reassignment, as she doesn't want to move to Florida with her assignment._ There was a number listed, as well. Jeff jotted it down, and called.

"Hello?" Her voice sounded like that of any middle-aged American woman.

He asked, "Is this Jessica Lake?"

"Yes, may I ask who is calling?"

"Hi Jessica. I'm Jeff Read, I'm currently the Watcher over Rick Cloud in Florida. We've recently had a couple of run-ins with Ms. Wallace. I was wondering if you were down here or not." He sat back, propping his feet up on his computer desk.

"No, they are trying to find a replacement for me. Has anything happened I should be aware of?"

"Nothing chronicle-worthy. She bought a Harley, and is apparently working at a secondhand bookshop. I just wanted to know if you want me to cover her for you while a replacement is found." Though of course these things were chronicle-worthy. The details of how Immortals re-created themselves after leaving lives told much about their characters.

"I'd love that, but it will have to go through Jamie. Are you sure pulling double duty won't be too much of a strain?" Jessica sounded all too pleased with this development, a sure sign of total nonattachment to her charge, along with her lack of interest in what Emmy had been doing lately.

"It would be a pleasure. And don't worry, I'm sure it will only be a couple of weeks, and they'll find someone new for her. I'll call Jamie in the morning and get back to you with the verdict tomorrow."

"Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Read! I've been so worried about Emerald's file, but now I know it will be in good hands."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Lake. I hope you have a wonderful evening." The regular end of call pleasantries were made, and Jeff hung up. He intoned dramatically, "Tonight, a rescue to achieve. Tomorrow, a long chat with Jamie about the future. Bring on my Peter Parker skills of situation control!"

At ten minutes to midnight, Rick heard a motorcycle approaching the front of the shop, and felt a now familiar presence. He swore in his head, _MJ, not Spiderman._ Of course, it was not a good example to dub the extremely lovely Emerald as Mary Jane. She did not fit the Peter Parker love interest at all. Actually, she did not fit any of the comic love interests. Not Gwen Stacy. She looked nothing like Felicia Hardy, either. The raven colored Shirley Temple hair and green eyes made her quite an original. She was shockingly pretty, and had a smile that could stop a truck when she used it right. She pulled off her helmet and used that devil's smile on him.

"Hey," she said, still totally calm and controlled. Rick wanted to know how old she was, and badly. She did not act like a young Immortal. She was way too self-controlled. Oh, she was snarky when it fit her mood, but it was all some sort of a word game for her.

"You're early. We've still got ten minutes to show time." Rick pulled out a pair of black gloves.

"I'm cautious. I didn't want you two boys trying to pull this stunt without me." Emmy's smile was still a complete mystery. She let nothing show of how she was really feeling.

"Now don't you think us 'two boys' can pull this little stunt without you?" Rick asked his usual hostility coming out. Now he had it. She was a black-haired Rogue, the one from the cartoon, not that bullcrap movie made a few years back. Not a Southern accent, but that was okay, she did not need one.

Emmy's smile flickered a little, but she kept it plastered there all the same. "I bet you are just a blast at parties when you're hammered. Probably the guy who's throwing all the furniture around and swearing at everyone."

Rick chuckled in spite of himself. "Nah, I'm actually a lot nicer drunk than sober."

"You want to try breaking into this building tonight? I'll let you, since your macho ego can't seem to handle the idea of a woman being a better thief than you."

"It's not that you're a woman. I've got no issues with that aspect, trust me. It's that you're Immortal." He watched her steadily.

Her eyebrows went up, and as she spoke her words came more and more quickly. "Have you looked in the mirror recently? So are you. Immortals work with other Immortals all the time. We're trained by other Immortals. My teacher and I were thieving partners together off and on for a couple hundred years. So why, why are you so turned off by other Immortals?" This time all the walls of control had finally broken and there underneath was painfully lonely frustration. Rick had found it, and now all he wanted was to put it back.

His throat hurt and his voice came out raspy with his own pain. "What's the point of becoming friends with other Immortals, when our goal in life is to take each other's heads off? Explain that to me."

"Maybe not everyone's after the Prize."

"You carry a sword same as I do!" Rick snapped.

"I defend myself," she said, blinking rapidly and he could see tears gathering in her eyes. "It doesn't mean my ultimate goal is to be the One. Sounds more like crap to me. What's the point of having phenomenal cosmic power if you don't have any friends around to share it with?"

Before Rick could respond, a black Jetta drove up, and it was Jeff who rolled down the window and stared at them with some concern. "We gonna do this thing?" he asked.

"Sure, Jeff. Emmy and I will follow you on our bikes. We'll meet you in the parking lot," Rick replied as he climbed onto his bike, putting up the kickstand and starting the engine.

The three drove quickly over to the complex. The streets were pretty quiet at this time of night, though not overly so. They parked the bikes and the car just far enough apart that it was not obvious they had come there together. Emmy led the way, using military signals to guide them through the shadows. They got into the building easily enough, and made their way up two flights of stairs before Emmy froze in mid-step and crouched down.

"What's wrong?" Rick asked, looking up.

They all three bunched together. Emmy whispered, "There's a guard outside the door tonight, and he will definitely recognize me. One of you two is going to have to take him out."

Jeff's eyes brightened and he leered. "You weren't dancing on his lap or something last night, were you?"

"Oh knock it off, you hormone crazed animal," Rick whispered, rolling his eyes. "Look, you two stay down here out of sight until I give the signal, alright?"

"What's the signal?" Jeff asked.

Rick gave him a look. "This is serious, Jeff. You, more than either of us, should realize that. Take it seriously. I'll probably just wave at you, or whistle. You'll know. Okay?"

Jeff nodded, looking a little abashed. "Sorry man, you're right."

Rick got up and continued up the steps. At the top, he walked up the hall, looking at the numbers on each door. He pretended to suddenly notice the man standing guard and headed for him, smiling, "Excuse me, sir. I know it's late, and you're out here for a purpose, but I just moved into this apartment complex and I can't seem to find my apartment. Is this Building Eighteen?"

The man did not suspect anything. He nodded amicably. "You're in luck, kid, this is. What room are you looking for?"

"This one," Rick said, and then punched the man in the face so hard that he knocked him out. The man hit the floor with a thud. Thankfully, no one heard and came to investigate. Rick motioned towards the others and they hurried up the staircase. He and Jeff moved the unconscious man to the landing down the steps. While they were doing that, Emmy picked the lock in less time than it takes to say 'call a locksmith.' As the other two came back, she silently opened the door. They entered the room. The guard on the couch was fast asleep. Emmy indicated where the bedroom was and stayed in the entrance to make sure their sleeping friend did not wake up.

The other two were back in a moment, the wide-eyed little girl in Jeff's arms, her hands clutching his shirt. They slid out the door and headed quickly down the stairs and to their separate vehicles. Not a word was said as they parted. There would be time to talk when Casey was home safe with her mother.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 5

Rick had to admit that the whole thing had gone more smoothly than expected. At least, that was what he thought until he looked behind him. There was an unmarked black van following them. Either someone had figured out what was going on, or it had been a setup. Rick cursed under his breath and accelerated. When he was next to Emmy, he motioned behind them. Though it was hard to tell in the dark, with their helmets on, Rick was sure he saw her nod. He also noticed that she was slowing down. He was not certain what her plan was, but he was sure it was going to be interesting.

He accelerated again and tapped on the window of the car, motioning behind. Jeff glanced in the rearview mirror, nodded, and took off, speeding down the almost empty street. The driver of the black van, now only a few feet behind Emmy, started trying to swerve around her. She stayed in front of the van and matched its acceleration. Rick noticed just in time that she was signaling for him to get out of there. He sped up, following Jeff. Rick did not see what happened. He only heard the crash as the van hit something and tires squealed. Rick did not look back. Emmy had done whatever she had done to get him and Jeff out of there, and he had to make certain it was not wasted on foolish sentiment.

The rest of the drive to the Andersons' house was a swift one. Driving twenty miles over the speed limit will do that. Thankfully, in Florida, cops usually have better things to do at night than worry about speeders, so long as they do not crash. As they pulled their respective vehicles to a stop in front of the house, Rick made one more check, just to make sure that there were no more unwanted surprises. He was not going to let the Andersons stay here tonight anyway, just in case. A hotel was their best bet. A nice expensive one on the coast would be perfect. The big pink one Rick had always wanted to stay at, but never had a reason to visit. At least someone else could enjoy luxury on his ill-gotten gains.

Jeff, carrying a clinging Casey, was by his side. "Any other surprise visitors we need to worry about?" he asked in a whisper. He also looked around, as they cautiously and quickly moved to the house.

"Nope, I think our friends, weren't expecting a bold move like Emmy's. She's got guts, I'll give her that."

Jeff grunted. He looked worried. Rick did feel bad. Jeff really seemed to like Emmy. He had admitted on the phone earlier that evening that they had been out to eat several times. He probably wanted to date her, but he would not. That would break even his extremely flexible Watcher's code. They could help, even befriend Immortals, but they could not have a romantic relationship with them. If they did, they had to leave the Watchers, and Jeff was not keen on that idea yet. He liked his other job too much to give it up for a woman he did not really know, even one as beautiful as Emerald.

Jeff rang the doorbell and they waited nervously on the step. Casey was hanging on tightly to him. The door opened about thirty seconds later, a very nervous Donna peeking out at them before she swung it wide. "Jeff, thank God!"

Casey suddenly came to life, almost jumping from Jeff's arms. "Mommy!"

"Oh, baby, you're okay!" Donna gasped, sweeping her daughter up in her arms, and holding her to her chest. "Oh, my baby!"

"Donna, is everything alright?" came a man's voice from inside the house.

"Daddy!" Casey cried, jumping from her mother's arms and running into the house. They could hear her through the walls. "Daddy, Daddy, Uncle Jeff rescued me!"

"He did!"

Jeff smiled at Donna, "We should get going. It's late, and I think Casey needs some sleep."

Donna hugged him. "Thank you, Jeff." She looked over to Rick standing next to him. "Thank you both."

"Mrs. Anderson," Rick began, "I think you and your whole family should stay at a hotel tonight. We were followed part of the way here; we aren't sure if it was by the same people who kidnapped your daughter or by someone else. Our other associate took care of the tail, but I don't think it's safe for you to stay here tonight." Rick reached into his pocket and took out his American Express card. "Here, use this. Stay anywhere in the city."

Donna stared at him. "But really Mr. Cloud, we couldn't possibly, you've done so much for us already."

He stared back at her, gently serious. "The job's not done right if Casey gets kidnapped again. Please, Mrs. Anderson. Do it for her."

"Alright, Mr. Cloud, alright." She took the card from Rick, and gave Jeff a deep look. "I'll just go get my husband and Casey."

The two men nodded in response. They would follow the family to the hotel, just to make sure that they got there safely.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 6

Emmy woke up, her body flooded with adrenalin. She looked around cautiously. She was in an alleyway. She could see police on the road, but they had not noticed her yet. Her entire body ached, though she was recovering quickly. No one was looking toward the alley yet. Her sword was digging into her back, probably slightly lodged into her skin back there. It was painful, so she got up slowly, trying not to attract the attention of anyone covering the wreck, and moved deeper into the alley and the darkness.

She was not afraid of dark alleyways. She had the fighting skills to take out any common attacker who tried in any way to hurt her. Though at the moment she was not sure she could really fight anyone. She had never purposely put herself into an accident before, though she had been in several. Over the course of six hundred years it was inevitable that at some point you would be hit by a car, or be on a bad flight, or get run over by a wagon. Or two. Or three.

Never, though, had she dreamed of the kind of pain that could come from throwing yourself off of a motorcycle when you sent it under a speeding van. She could not remember a time when she had ever been in more pain. Somewhere along the way she had lost her helmet, and her head was still healing. She felt as though clots were forming on the inside of her skull. It would be a couple of days before she was totally back to normal. She actually wished she had been killed in the accident. It would have meant healing faster. Death always meant healing faster. Emmy never really understood that, but it was true. Now she would have to suffer through two or three days of pain until everything put itself back together.

She pulled her sword out of her back and settled it into its normal place in her leather jacket. The pain from that felt so minor compared to everything else right now, she did not even flinch. There was a lot of talking going on in the street, but no one seemed interested in the alleyway at all. Emmy wondered to herself if it would be safe to sleep here. Not that she could, with a thousand daggers stabbing into her brain and sides. She wondered what it was like for a mortal who survived this kind of an accident. They probably would end up as a vegetable, able to breathe and blink, but not able to move a muscle. It was while she was thinking these things that she felt the disturbing presence of another Immortal. Emmy pulled herself to the wall and wrapped her arms around her legs. If she was lucky, they would search and not find her. With all the cops around, maybe they would just go away. Unless the Immortal was a cop.

Rick and Jeff started back towards the neighborhood where Emmy had crashed her bike into the pursuing van. They had gone back to the bike shop, argued, and finally Jeff's angry, "Fine, I'll go without you!" had gotten Rick to come. He felt that if Emmy had been found by the cops, she was most likely in the hospital and would be out again and back on her feet the next day. Jeff, though, was still young. Emmy was someone he worried about even though, intellectually, he knew that she would be fine. Emotionally, he still wanted to protect this girl who looked younger than he was. Just as Rick looked younger. Though in Rick's case, in another fifteen years everyone would believe he was just "well preserved" as Tolkien put it. Still, it was in Jeff's nature to want to save damsels in distress. Even the ones who could probably take him out with a round house kick on the first try. Rick did not blame him; he had been the same way for a long time. Now he was more of an every-man-for-himself kind of guy.

Two streets away from the accident, Jeff slowed and pulled over. "Looks like they've got some major police blockades out. You think she's there?"

"We'll never know until we look, come on." Rick got out of the car and headed towards the sirens.

"Wait up man, you aren't going to just walk right up and into that action are you?" Jeff gasped, grabbing Rick's arm and pulling him to a stop.

Rick shook his head, "No, I'm just trying to get close enough to see if I can sense her. I can't do that from here, so how about you be quiet and just follow me, so we don't end up getting into the middle of this whole mess."

"I think we're already in the middle of it," Jeff said.

"Nope," Rick said. "That's why Emmy did what she did, so we wouldn't be stuck in the middle and we could save Casey. Let's be smart about this so her efforts weren't wasted."

Jeff nodded, and the two walked closer to the shops that lined this particular street in Ft. Myers in order to stay out of the light. They had walked quite a way towards the crash when Rick stopped and nodded at Jeff, and then pointed into the nearest alley. They walked down it, and came out around the back of a laundromat. On the other side was another very thin alleyway before the next store, a salon this time. There, to their surprise, they found Emmy crouched against the wall. She looked at them and a sigh escaped her lips. It sounded loud to Rick, but he was positive that with all the noise was going on in the street, no one heard it. Her eyes were glazed and she looked more through them then at them.

Jeff was at her side in an instant. "Emmy," he whispered, "are you okay? Can you walk? How did you get down here?" He was very carefully touching her arms. Her head jerked towards him, eyes sliding in and out of focus.

In that moment, Rick realized he had been mistaken. Emmy was not Jeff's MJ, nor his Felicia, she was his version of Aunt May. The way he was trying to take care of her was not in the manner of a concerned boyfriend or lover, but of a family member.

"Yes, I'll be fine. I'm immortal, remember, we heal quickly." She smiled weakly, and Rick could tell she was in a lot of pain.

He came forward and knelt on the other side of her. "Can you stand?"

Her gaze jerked in his direction. "Maybe."

"Here, give me your hand, I'll support your weight. We need to get out of here, Em, or we're going to attract attention."

She nodded and allowed Rick to lever her from the ground. Not to be left out, Jeff slid his arm under her other elbow and twined their fingers together. Trying to look as natural as possible, practically holding her up between them, they slowly and carefully made their way back towards the car.

"That was smooth." Jeff said, smiling tightly as they settled Emmy into the back seat.

"Yeah, well, let's get out of here before we run out of luck for one night," Rick replied. He was cautious. All Immortals were, if they wanted to live for any amount of time.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 7

Jeff drove conscientiously. They just wanted to get far from the scene of the accident and then head to Rick's house afterwards. That would make it so that they would not seem suspicious. He drove in silence for quite some time. The car seemed to Rick to be too filled with tension. Sure, they were not out of trouble yet, but Jeff still seemed overly tense. His fingers kept clenching on the steering wheel. Rick ventured, "What's on your mind, man?"

"Nothing," Jeff grunted.

"Really, then why do you still look like you want to knock someone's head in?" Rick realized that Jeff was not simply tense. He was angry. Why, Rick did not know, but he had never seen the young Watcher act like this. He was usually calm and collected. He had the attention span of a five-year-old and the hormones of a high school kid, and he liked being that way. Right now, he was wound up so tight, Rick was afraid if he touched him, he would go off like a jack-in-the-box.

"He's mad at me," Emmy said in a strained voice from the back seat.

"You bet I'm mad. Do you have any idea how many things could have gone wrong with a stunt like that? Including you losing your head? It was a half-brained idea, Emmy!"

"Jeff, chill. Emmy saved our lives," Rick found himself snapping. How ironic that he was now defending her, when they had been quarrelling only an hour or so previously. "If she hadn't pulled that stunt, who knows what would have happened tonight. I know it wasn't smart, but we didn't really have the ability, with the three of us separated as we were, to think of something better. You should be thanking her for helping save Casey's life instead of yelling at her."

"The only reason you're on her side is because you don't care about her!" Jeff growled.

"Enough!" Emmy shouted.

Rick kept from looking back, he did not want to confirm his suspicions that she was crying. _Don't care about her? No, it's because she can take care of herself and isn't likely to lose her head ditching a motorcycle!_

"Jeff, I admit that what I did was crazy, but I was more worried about the little girl, okay," Emmy said, her voice cracking. "I've lived a long time. I've had my share of adventures, but that little girl deserves a real life, without any more disasters, and if I lose my life saving a child, then it was a life well spent." Rick almost nodded his head.

Jeff did not reply. He just pulled into the parking space in front of Rick's house and turned off the engine. "We're here."

Emmy woke up to the sound of water running. The sound bothered her, which is why she woke up. She lived alone in a rather large house, which meant that the only time the water was ever running was when she was using it. Her head was throbbing, and she realized she was not in her own bed but on a couch, and it was not her couch. All of this took her a few minutes to process, and then she remembered last night.

She got up slowly and looked around, trying to remember exactly where she was. Every movement made her head spin slightly. Was this Rick's house? She looked at the couch. Someone had covered her with a blanket and given her a pillow, though she really did not remember that. The water turned off. She turned and saw a hall. She heard a door open and close. The person who had been showering was whistling as he moved through the hall. From the steady tread, Emmy was sure it was Rick, though that seemed impossible. Rick had never really shown anything but animosity towards her, and last night's adventure surely could not have changed that.

The whistling moved into another room and a door closed. Not sure of much, and still feeling dizzy, Emmy sat down and waited for Rick to come out again. It was only a few minutes before he entered the room. He seemed pleased, an expression Emmy was not used to seeing on his face. He gave her a cheeky smile. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

She blinked. "Dizzy, lightheaded, kind of wish I'd died."

Rick laughed, "Sometimes it heals faster that way. I know. And motorcycle crashes aren't fun. I've had my fair share. It'll be a day or so, but you'll be fine."

"Unlike most people who have been thrown from a motorcycle like that. Sometimes being an Immortal does have its perks," Emmy replied.

"So, you wanna go home, or stay here? I've got to get to the garage. Management, you know," Rick asked, all gentlemanly, disorienting in how different it was from the way he usually treated her.

"If it's not an inconvenience, I think I'd like to go home, shower, sleep some more, drink something to take away the pain," Emmy replied, trying to sound and look as neutral as possible.

Rick nodded. "No problem."

She stood up slowly, Rick came to her side, gently slipped his left arm under her right, and helped her walk towards the garage door.

As they got into the car, he asked, "So where do you live?"

"I live in a house on Palm Street. Do you know where that is?" she asked, watching him with still-dazed curiosity.

"Yup, it's actually not that far from here, though it's not very close to my shop. Oh, and if I were you, I'd be prepared to receive a visit from the police sometime soon. They'll be wondering how your motorcycle ended up where it did. So just tell them you were with me and Jeff all night. We'll confirm it, but the rest of the story is up to you."

Emmy nodded, "Thank you Rick, but you don't have to. I know you're not into this whole hang out with other Immortals thing."

Rick shrugged, "Maybe, I've been wrong."

"What's with your change of tune, all of a sudden? Yesterday afternoon you didn't want anything to do with me. Then last night, you let me stay on your couch, and today, you're taking me home?"

Rick did not reply, he just watched the road and drove. Something was on his mind, Emmy could see it on his face. Whatever it was, he was not sharing. At least, not yet. Emmy let him be and looked around the city in the morning light, still enjoying the beauty of Florida around her. She was not used to seeing the endless flowers, trees, grass, and blue skies. It was breathtaking and she really appreciated it.

It seemed to take no time at all before they were on Palm Street, "This is the place," Emmy said as they neared a tan house in the middle of the block. Rick stopped the car and she got out, still a little wobbly on her feet. "Thanks for the ride, Rick."

"Listen Emmy, I... what you did last night, I mean..." Rick seemed a loss for words.

"Anytime," Emmy said, and shut the car door. She was not sure how to deal with this version of Rick and the truth was, in her still injured state, she did not want to. At least before, he had been consistently belligerent. Now he was being solicitous, but she did not know the reason, or when he might change back. She went inside without a glance back at him, and went straight to her room and fell asleep.

Rick worked all day in silence. Neither Mike nor Manuel said a word to him. They were afraid that he was in a really bad mood, and neither one of them wanted to be on the receiving end of his wrath. The truth was that he just did not know how to deal with what was going on in his life. He had spent the last fourteen years cutting himself off from any other Immortals and now, here he was, realizing he was falling for one. The worst part of it was that even with his new insight into Jeff and Emmy's relationship, he was afraid of hurting his friend by wanting Emmy.

When he was mostly finished working, he sat down on a bench to think more about Emmy. He still did not trust her. It was not in his nature anymore, and he did not know anything about her. What kind of Immortal was she? Was she was just setting them up? The last thing Rick wanted in his life was a female Immortal. Especially one as complicated as her. And yet...

 _I've lived a long time. I've had my share of adventures, but that little girl deserves a real life, without any more disasters, and if I lose my life saving a child, then it was a life well spent._

That was what she had said, dazed and in pain, not quite all there. He could not shake his sense that this was the truth of her. _She still cares about people. Children._

Rick heard something drop next to him. Looking down, he saw a penny on the bench. He raised his gaze to meet Jeff's smile. Jeff tilted his head and asked teasingly, "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Hey man, what's up? You seem like you're in a better mood than you were last night. Get some good sleep?" Rick grinned back at him.

He chuckled sheepishly, "Yeah, I guess. I was just worried, you know. Emmy's my friend, and she's not invincible, whether you two like to admit it or not. And it wasn't her thing, you know. This whole investigating thing, it's our thing. I just felt like I shouldn't have gotten her involved in it, you know."

Rick nodded. He whispered seriously, "Jeff, it seems to me that you didn't 'let' Emmy get involved in this. I think she kind of thrust herself into it, and there's no way you could have stopped her. She's a brave woman, and a headstrong Immortal. She's not going to listen to you."

Jeff nodded, also keeping his voice down. "Yeah, I know. So, how is your archenemy, now that you've saved her?"

Rick snickered. "She's not my archenemy, and she's fine. I took her home this morning. I think she's just planning to sleep it off."

"Man, I wish I could just sleep off something like that," Jeff said, with a far-off look. "So you think I can drop by and see her today?"

Rick shrugged. "If you want to, but I'm not her father, so I wouldn't know. I think you'll have to call and ask her."

"Speaking of Emmy I want to talk to you, in the office."

Rick got up and they headed to the office. "What's on your mind, Jeff?"

Jeff sighed and admitted, "I decided yesterday to look up Emmy in the database."

"You what?!" Rick said sharply, shutting the office door and turning to stare at his friend.

"I was curious, I wanted to find out how old she was, and I wanted to prove to you that she was trustworthy. I mean, Emmy and I have become really good friends over the past couple of weeks, and well, I didn't want to lose that just because you don't like hanging out with Immortals."

"Okay, so what's bothering you?" Rick asked, sitting down, and pulling his chair up to his desk.

Jeff turned and started playing with a file cabinet, almost as if he had never seen one before. "Well, for starters, she was trained by Amanda."

Rick stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"Yup, and it gets worse," Jeff said, glancing sidelong at his friend.

"Don't tell me she and Duncan were lovers too?" Rick asked, feeling like he was being stabbed by hundreds of knives.

"Nah, the whole Amanda/Duncan thing stopped that, but she is old friends with a lot of people from your old life, I think," Jeff said. "I mean from what you've shared with me."

"So why is it that I'd never heard of her or seen her before?" Rick asked.

"Because of her marriage to General David Wallace. She pretty much cut ties during that time and focused on her marriage. He died about six months ago. Amanda came and helped her deal with stuff there, and then she just moved. I guess she wanted a clean start. She felt like it was time, and she wanted to do it alone. Emmy is all about adventure."

Rick nodded again. He got up and started pacing back and forth.

Jeff watched him anxiously. "What's on your mind? What's wrong, man? I mean I know this isn't exactly the best news, but I don't think it's pace-the-room worthy."

"It's just another thing on top of everything else." Rick stopped, swore, and turned to face his friend. "What's between you and Emmy?"

"Me and Emmy? We're just friends, man. Look if you're that worried about your whole cover being blown, we can split ties. It's not that important to me. I mean I'll miss her, but I don't want to mess up your life for my friendship." Jeff was looking really concerned. "I really think everything will be okay. I mean, I don't think Emmy's going to be seeing Amanda or Duncan anytime soon, and even if she does, it's not like you guys are friends or anything, so I mean, I think it should be okay."

Rick sighed. "That's not the problem. I think, Jeff, I think that I want to be friends with Emmy. She's amazing."

Jeff stared at his friend. Then his eyes lit up. "You're serious? Mr. Lone Wolf Rick Cloud is falling for someone, and not only someone, but another Immortal? What the heck man? Yesterday, you were accusing me of mutiny, and today, what I was right?"

Rick sighed again, "Yes, Jeff, you were right, okay."

Jeff smiled. "I'm totally cool with this. Man, someday I want the hot babe."

"Jeff, when you are willing to grow up a bit, someday you might get the hot babe. Besides, right now I don't _have_ the hot babe."

"I know, but man, this is so awesome!" At that moment, Jeff's phone rang. "Crap, I'm late, see you later man!" And Jeff was out the door like a shot, answering his phone as he went.

Rick sighed and looked at the ceiling. "Peter Parker the matchmaker... for his Aunt May. Now that's an unlikely story turn in the Spiderman Watcher chronicles."

Emerald's cell phone rang at six in the evening, waking her from the longest stretch of rest she had been able to have in a long time. "Hello," she said groggily into her phone.

"I didn't wake you up did I?" asked Jeff.

"Yes, but considering I've slept all day, I think it's okay. What's up Jeff?" she asked, sitting up in bed and stretching as she spoke.

"You'll never believe this, but no one will ever know we were involved last night." Jeff sounded excited, like a five-year-old who has just learned he is going to Disneyland for the first time.

"Okay, how? My bike was at the scene of the crime."

"Right, but your license plate was so mangled in the wreckage that it can't be identified. So, as long as you cut your losses and don't worry about the bike, we're in the clear."

Emmy laughed. "No worries there, nearly dying once on a motorcycle was enough to get owning one out of my system. I think I just need to buy myself a new Lincoln or something."

"A Lincoln? No, that's an old lady's car!"

"Jeff, I really hate to break it to you but, really, truly I'm an old lady. Older than most old ladies are." Emmy could not help but smile at Jeff's disgust. He really was a boy, in his twenties or not.

He chattered on with ecstatic energy. "Anyway, Rick and I were thinking of going out for dinner and congratulating ourselves, you wanna come?"

She scrunched up her face. "Jeff, I really don't think Rick likes having me around. You two go have fun. I'll just have a quiet evening, relaxing at home."

"Oh, come on Em! Rick's changed his mind about you. He thinks you're great. You have to come. Please, it's no fun having dinner with Rick; he's not hot like you are." Jeff was whining now, but in a mature way that only he could pull off.

"Oh, I see how it is. You just want me there as eye candy." Emmy was getting out of bed now. Her head was back to normal and in fact she felt great. She stretched her legs in yoga patterns, all the while continuing her conversation with Jeff.

"You've found me out. It's not because you're a fun conversationalist, and you helped me save my Goddaughter's life last night. Nope, the only reason I want you around is because you have a beautiful figure." She could imagine Jeff's face beaming on the other side of the phone; he was, if nothing else, a joker. He liked to have fun and enjoy himself.

Emmy laughed. "Okay crazy one, where are you two going out to eat tonight?"

"We were thinking about Nino's. How does Italian sound to you?" Jeff asked, accenting the word Italian.

"It sounds fantastic. And what time is this dinner?"

"Seven o'clock sharp, oh and it's formal wear this evening, for the fun of dressing up. Be there, or we eat without you," Jeff said and then, being his usual silly self, he hung up the phone.

"Oh you crazy, crazy boy," Emmy said to herself, and went to the bathroom to shower.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 8

Rick was pacing a little outside the restaurant. He had dressed up for the evening. It was not often that he got a chance to wear even a pair of Dockers. He could tell that Jeff was starting to get a little annoyed with him.

"Would you chill, man? Seriously, she still has ten minutes, and she's not going to lie to me."

"What if something happened to her?" Rick asked, "What if she changed her mind last minute because I've been such a jerk."

"Dude, seriously, if you don't chill and start acting like the normal Rick Cloud I know and love, I'm going to change my mind and leave you."

"Sorry, it's just... I haven't done this for a while."

"Obviously." Jeff moved his head around and played with his tie. "Whoever invented ties should be shot."

"Did you know that originally the purpose of a tie was to be a bib for food, so it wouldn't get on your cloths at dinner?"

"I thought you were too young to know stuff like that," Jeff replied, still struggling to make his tie feel comfortable.

"My teacher wasn't. I learned a lot of useless information about history during my first few years being an Immortal. And then I went to college and learned even more useless information, and do you know the sucky thing about being an Immortal?"

"Enlighten me," Jeff said.

"You actually remember things better. Your mind is like a sponge and it just sucks things in. Sometimes I hate it."

"Sounds awful," Jeff said, rolling his eyes. "At least with that ability I might be able to get my Masters sometime in the near future."

"I thought you weren't planning on getting your Masters. You told me you hate school and you're done with it." Rick was giving a Jeff an intense look now.

"I thought I was done with it too, but... she's here isn't she?" Jeff did not finish his sentence, and Rick knew it was because he had seen his face change as if searching for something.

"Yup."

A taxi rolled up to where they were standing and stopped. Emmy opened the door, and Rick moved forward and helped her out of the vehicle. "Why thank you, sir." Emmy said, a careful smile on her face. She looked stunning. Instead of wearing black like both men had assumed she would be, she was wearing a deep red dress with matching lipstick. It made her eyes truly stand out like, as her name implied, emeralds in her face. Her hair was pulled up and back in some sort of a ponytail thing. The whole look really made her stand out in the Florida sun. Even in such a racial melting pot, Emmy looked exotic.

"You look stunning," Rick said. He could not help staring at the woman in front of him. Rick had always thought she was beautiful, from the moment she stepped into his shop, but tonight, in that slinky red dress, he realized she had down-played her beauty. The way she looked tonight, she really could be on the cover of a magazine.

Emmy smiled as she reached with her free left hand to take Jeff's right arm. "Thank you again. Now boys, let's not make a scene in the middle of the street. Someone promised I'd be getting dinner tonight." With that, Emmy led both of the men inside.

Dinner was a fun-filled affair of stories told by Rick and Jeff as they recounted some of their adventures in being private investigators. Some of their stories were full of danger, as their adventure of the evening before, and some were just silly: about how they saved missing cats and dogs as well as other strange animal pets of the area.

Near the end of dinner, when things were calming down a bit, Jeff decided it was time to get down to business. He really wanted things to work out between Emmy and Rick, but more than anything he wanted her to officially be part of this whole arrangement. After he had made reservations for dinner, he had called Jamie. It had been their second conversation in two days, and this had gone just as well as the first one. Yesterday, Jeff had asked permission to be on special assignment with Emmy until a new Watcher was assigned. Today, he had asked for permission to let her know about the Watchers. Jamie's response had sounded both optimistic and cautious.

 _"You realize if you do this, I'm going to be leaving you on double-duty for quite some time, don't you? I'm alright with you telling Emerald about the Watchers, but you will have to watch both her and Rick. The fewer Watchers they actually know, the better; whether or not they are aware of the organization itself."_

 _"I understand that, sir, and I'm more than willing to take on the challenge. Emerald is too interesting of an Immortal to give up watching, anyway. Besides, if a relationship does begin between these two, and I have a feeling that it will, they will be in each other's company for a long time." Jeff's excitement was apparent._

 _"Very well then, Jeffery, I've always said you have a good head on your shoulders, and you've been one of our best Watchers since you started with us eight years ago, even though you were very young. I think if anyone can pull this off, it's you. Good luck, my young friend."_

 _"Thanks, Jamie."_

The whole conversation was still running through his mind as Jeff changed the course of the conversation at the dinner table. "Alright, you two, I have something to say now."

Both Immortals looked at Jeff, curious as to what he had to say. He knew they had both guessed that something was on his mind. He was a lot younger than both of them, and still wore most of his emotions on his sleeve. It was not surprising that he would be the same way now. "Look, it came to my attention last night that, although Rick and I make a very good team, the three of us together make a better team, and well, if Rick's okay with it I'd like to invite you to join our little family, Emmy. Become part of our investigating team."

Rick smiled. "Actually Emmy, he's right. I really don't know how we would have pulled off last night without you. I have to admit when I'm wrong, and I've been wrong about you. You've been nothing but wonderful to Jeff since the beginning, and I've been an outright jerk. So, first of all I'm sorry, and second, we'd love to have you join Cloud investigations."

Emmy sat in stunned silence for a while, "I... wow, I don't know what to say."

"Say yes, Em. Just say yes. Then I can have you as eye candy every day." Jeff lifted his eyebrows and gave her a quirky smile.

Emmy laughed softly. "You sure do know how to lighten the mood, don't you?"

"I am the king of silliness," Jeff said, making a funny face to prove it. His expression changed from silly to solemn again. "There is something serious I would like to talk about, though, but not here. If you don't mind, I'd kind of like to finish this conversation somewhere more private."

Rick looked surprised by this but said, "Sure Jeff, we can talk at my place if you want. I mean, I am the one with the car tonight." He flashed a teasing smile at Jeff.

"Ha ha, okay, works for me. You okay with that, Emmy?"

Emmy shrugged. "This whole night has been a surprising adventure, what's another hour's enjoyment?"


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 9

As the three companions entered Rick's house, Jeff steeled himself for this conversation. He had never actually had it before. His first meeting with Rick had been a bit different. Different was an understatement. Rick had pretty much sought Jeff out. That had been early in his time down in Florida, back before Rick took Devon's head. Since that time, their lives had been quiet. Oh, sure Rick whacked the occasional Immortal, but it was by no means like it had been during his first year down here. It was weird. Rick had pretty much cleaned house back then. But that was then, and Rick had known about the Watchers already; so the fact that he had found Jeff was not such a big deal. This meant actually being the one to reveal a secret organization to a new Immortal. Jeff was not sure that he and Emmy had been friends long enough for this to work, and yet he had to try. He wanted this partnership to be a full one, on all sides.

"So, what's on your mind, Jeff?" Emmy asked as she sat down on the couch and leaned back.

Emmy's voice entered into Jeff's thoughts and drew him out of his reverie. He met her gaze. "Look Emmy, if you're going to be a part of this partnership, you need to know everything, and that means knowing who I am."

"Jeff..." Rick said, a low warning tone in his voice.

"I called and got permission this evening Rick, don't freak out."  
"Permission for what?" Emmy asked. She was on her feet, looking back and forth between the two men, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

Jeff paced for a second, took a deep breath and began, "I am a Watcher. I'm part of a secret organization that observes and records the history of Immortals. We know the truth about Immortals, all the rules you live by, and we observe and record, but never interfere. You could say we are a special kind of historian."

Emmy stared at Jeff, her face carved in stone. "If you are supposed to never interfere, then why are you telling me this, and why does Rick know about you?"

Jeff took a deep breath again. He could not read her expression. He could not tell if she was upset by all this, or if it was terrifying. "I'm a special member of the Watchers, and you could say, in a way, we do interfere. We are called Servants. Our job is to make sure that an evil, bad, off-kilter Immortal is not the last one. We want the winner of the Prize to be a good guy. To ensure that happens, some of the good Immortals have a friend in the Watchers, to help them find evil Immortals who are hurting people in their area, and take them out. That's what I do here."

Emmy did not say anything as Jeff stopped speaking. She just stood there, completely still and unreadable. She was like a shell of iron.

It was not she who broke the silence, but Rick, "Believe it or not, Emmy, the Watchers are the good guys. For the most part."

Emmy stopped staring at Jeff and turned to look at Rick. "How did you find out they exist, anyway?"

"I've known about them almost since I became an Immortal. My teacher was approached by one. In this case, I approached Jeff; though he was more than happy to talk with me. When I first came here, there were several not-so-nice Immortals wandering around this city. It was a lot scarier then, than it is now. I wanted that to change. I asked for Jeff's help." Rick shrugged, "They watch all of us."

"So I have a Watcher?" Emmy asked.

"You did. Now that I've told you who I am, I get to pull double-duty and watch both of you." Jeff replied.

"So where's my Watcher?"

"Still back in Pennsylvania. We have lives, too. We don't always just pack up and move immediately with our Immortals. Sometimes our lives... our jobs... won't let us." Jeff shrugged.

"And you never interfere?" Emmy asked.

Jeff shook his head, "Not in a one-on-one combat. It's one of the rules. We respect the rules."

Emmy nodded. "Okay."

"Look Emmy, I know that this is a lot, but I didn't want you to become a part of this team and be left half in the dark. It wouldn't be fair. You are my friend. I like you and I trust you. If I didn't trust you, I never would have told you about this. I know it's weird and kind of stalkerish, but Immortals are an important part of history." He paused to breathe deeply before continuing. "We don't want their stories to be destroyed like so much of the world's history already has been. Because we have the chronicles we do, we know more truth about the past than most people. And now with the Servants, we can help the world stay a safer place, for everybody."

"How long have you been watching us?" Emmy asked, sitting down again. Her shell was starting to melt, though it was still impossible to read what it was she was feeling.

"For thousands of years. I can tell you when you were born, where you died, and the first head you took and when."

"Am I supposed to be impressed? Excited that my whole life is documented somewhere never to be forgotten?" Now, finally, she looked angry. She was staring piercingly at Jeff.

Rick spoke, his voice strained but not loud. "No, Emerald, you're supposed to understand their desire to keep a history of the events that pass in the world; even if some of those events are kept secret from the general public. I know it's creepy. There are times that it still weirds me out, but one of my best friends before Jeff was a Watcher. He is one of the most caring men on the face of the planet. I would never give up our friendship. Watchers are just that: Watchers. All they want is to help mankind—in their own unusual way. Now, you already know Jeff. What was your opinion of him at dinner?"

Emmy did not answer, but she would not look at Rick, either.

He continued more softly. "I can tell you what your opinion of him was. That he was a sweet, silly young man with an overactive libido. You liked him. He was fun and full of life, and a great friend. He is still all of those things; the fact that he's a Watcher doesn't change who he is. All it means is that you don't have to hide who you really are, from him. He knows everything. Not just that we don't die, he really understands the danger of our lives, and he's willing to face it with us. He's more loyal than a Saint Bernard."

"Hey now," Jeff interjected, "there will be no comparing me to a dog."

Emmy snickered quietly. "Okay, Rick, you've made your point. It's just a lot. I mean, to find out that my whole life I've been followed by people and never known they were there. It's kind of creepy."

"It's our job to be invisible; we actually have training for it," Jeff said brightly.

"You go to school for this?" Emmy raised both eyebrows at him.

"It's actually called the Academy, and you can do it part-time while you're doing school full-time. It's kind of fun, for the most part." Jeff smiled his silly grin, and then went and sat next to Emmy on her right, gently looping his left arm around her. "I promise I don't have any diseases and will never follow you into the woman's restroom, so long as you promise to still be my friend." Jeff gave Emmy his best impersonation of a begging puppy dog. "Please?"

Emmy could not help laughing. "You can be the silliest kid when you want to be."

"I know. It's why all the girls fall for me. I'm just so darn cute," Jeff said, and then he turned to Rick. "See, I told you."

Rick rolled his eyes, "Okay, Peter, now that you've revealed your secret identity, I think we should all head to bed. Some of us still have to work tomorrow."

"Peter?" questioned Emmy, looking slightly confused.

Jeff grinned sheepishly. "It's an inside joke. Rick often refers to me as Peter Parker, mild mannered photographer by day, superhero by night."

"Yeah, I guess that fits! Except Rick is the one with the Spidey-sense." Emmy nudged Jeff and grinned.

Rick laughed. "Ain't that the truth? Okay kiddies, everyone out to the car, I need my sleep. I don't know about you two, but I've had enough excitement for the last few days."

At that, the party broke up and everyone headed to his car; he still had to take them home.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 10

As soon as Emmy got in the house, she reached for her phone and then stopped to check the time on her watch. It was about 10 pm, so it would be somewhere around 4 am in Paris. That would not be too early, would it? She did not really care. She hit the speed dial and called the number anyway. Duncan could kill her later.

After three rings, his very tired and grumpy voice came through. "Hello?"

"Duncan, darling, how are you?" Emmy said, with as much cheer as she could muster.

"Emmy?" he asked, the grumpiness giving way to surprise. She heard other noises, the sounds of shifting cloth, and a woman's voice came on the line.

"Sweetheart, how are you?" Amanda sounded much more awake than Duncan did.

"Good. Amanda, have you ever heard of the Watchers?" Emmy asked, pacing her living room as she spoke.

"Where did you hear about them?" Amanda asked. There was tightness in her voice; much like Rick's when he had been warning Jeff, earlier in the evening.

"A Watcher told me. Well, and an Immortal. Amanda, how could you have known about this and not told me?" Emmy exploded, frustration filling her enter body.

"Because Duncan asked me not to tell anyone. They aren't hurting anyone, and telling all the Immortals about Watchers would be like telling all the mortals about us. It would create as much hysteria. People fear what they don't understand." Amanda replied, in her mother-tone, trying to calm Emmy down.

"Oh, but it was okay for Duncan to tell you?"

"Look, for a while in the mid-nineties there was a group of Watchers that went AWOL, and started hunting Immortals and killing them. Duncan was afraid one was after me, so he told me about them. That's why I know about them. Otherwise, he never would have said anything. Now, why were you told about them?" The interest in Amanda's voice was apparent, and Emmy could imagine her leaning forward as if listening to some juicy gossip.

Emmy sighed, and sat down on the couch, not sure where to begin. "Before I explain that—have either of you ever heard of an Immortal who calls himself Rick Cloud?"

"Doesn't ring a bell." The sound of Amanda's voice got farther away as she asked Duncan. "He says no, and wants to know how old he is."

"I don't know. He's never really said. He's not that open about anything. All I know is that he's known about Watchers practically since he became Immortal."

Amanda hmphed into the phone. "That's got to be rare. I've got a friend on my end that might know more about him, want me to ask around?"

"Nah, Rick's a good guy. I don't think I need to learn about him that way. I'll just charm the information out of him, sooner or later." Emmy smiled to herself. It was going to be an interesting game of cat and mouse.

"Now, you were going to tell me how you learned about Watchers," Amanda said into the phone; bringing the conversation back to its original subject.

"It's kind of a long story. Do you want me to call you back tomorrow?"

"Oh, no, you're not getting out of this now. I never hear from you, then you wake me up at 4 am just to tease me with a tiny dab of information, and then hang up on me? I don't think so, I want the whole story, and I want it now."

"Okay... but it's not a short story. It started back about two weeks ago..."

"Do you want to tell me what's on your mind this morning, or do I have to guess?" Duncan asked, while pouring some coffee. It was around eight am now, and he was half-tempted to call Emmy back and wake her up in the middle of the night.

"It's just weird. This whole story of Emmy's. I mean, she meets this Immortal, who runs a bike shop and knows about Watchers, and her description of him makes him sound a lot like..." She stopped dead. They had not spoken of Richie in almost ten years, and she did not want to bring him up this morning. Not after such a lovely night.

"Sound a lot like who?" Duncan asked—there was tension in his voice—the kind he got when he was upset about something.

"Richie."

"Richie's dead, remember. I killed him. He's got a plot in the cemetery. There's no way that this guy Rick is Richie. He was not the only blond-haired young Immortal in the world who liked motorcycles. It's just a weird coincidence," Duncan said, his voice hollow.

"I know it's impossible, but all the same I want to know who this Cloud guy is. I want to make sure that he's, you know, safe for her to be with," Amanda said, while putting on her coat.

"Amanda, I think you're overreacting. Emmy is six hundred years old. I think she's old enough to know who is safe for her to be with and who isn't." Duncan gave her a rather pained but stern look. "Besides, I was kind of hoping that since our sleep got interrupted, we could go back to bed." He moved forward, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her on the lips.

"Maybe you're right, I'm probably overreacting." Amanda replied, and she allowed Duncan to take off her coat. "It can wait."

"I was hoping you'd say that." Duncan grinned.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 11

Rick stared at the phone, trying desperately to decide if he wanted to make this call. He had not spoken to Joe in years. Probably since he graduated from NYU and moved down to Florida. Jeff and Rick's slew of bad girlfriends had filled the void in his life for so long, he had let thoughts of his old friend slip far from his mind. Now, for some reason, he wanted desperately to hear the old man's voice, and see how he was doing. What was happening to him? He had decided, when he moved down here, that he was totally cutting himself from his old life. That was why he had not called Joe, but Emerald was changing his mind, apparently about a lot of things.

Rick picked up the receiver and sank down into his office chair. He dialed the number for Le Blues Bar in Paris. The phone rang twice, and then a French voice came on the line, "Hello."

"Is Joe there?"

"Joe, oui,"

There was a little bit of rustling, and then the old familiar voice came on the line. "Hello?"

"Hey Joe, how are you?" he asked, around the knot in his throat.

"Richie?" Joe's voice went up an octave in surprise.

"It's Rick now, remember?"

"Sorry man. It's hard to remember. You don't call that often." Joe's tone was gentle, with a note of teasing.

It made Rick smile painfully and close his eyes for a second. "I know, it's just... hard."

"How are you doing? What have you been up to? The last time you called, you had just graduated with honors from NYU's Business sector. Don't tell me you went and got a Master's."

Rick laughed, "Nah, I moved to Florida. I own my own bike repair shop, and I'm a private detective, oh and my best friend is my Watcher, and he knows you, I guess."

"What's his name?" Joe asked.

"Jeff Read."

"Jeff! No kidding. Well, the boy is from Florida. Miami, I think he said. Did you know he flew all the way to meet me in Paris in the middle of his senior year of high school? Got a heart of gold, that one."

Rick could imagine Joe standing behind the counter, with a sweet smile on his face. He blinked at the sudden water in his eyes. "You're telling me. The kid is a regular Peter Parker. Thinks he can save the world; wants to, too. Did you know he's gotten me into more trouble through our private investigating than I get myself into on my own, even with being immortal?"

Joe laughed, "Ah, man. I wish I could see you, but I don't fly well anymore."

"Yeah, I'd send a picture, but it's just not a good idea."

"Rick, do you think you'll ever tell Duncan the truth?" There was sadness in Joe's voice this time.

Rick sighed. "I don't know Joe. That's sort of what I called about. I just want to know, have you ever heard of Emerald de la Vega?"

"Emerald de la Vega? Why are you asking about her?" Joe asked. He sounded surprised.

"Because she's here, Joe, in Florida. She's becoming a main focus of my life. Jeff told me she was trained by Amanda. Can you tell me if they're close?"

Joe sighed. "Oh, they're close alright. And very similar, too. Emerald just gave up being a thief a little sooner than Amanda. The two of them could run circles around anyone when they were together. Amanda was to Emerald what Rebecca was to her. The two of them still talk quite often."

"Have you ever met her?" Rick asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

"Me? No. Emerald's been out of the game the last fifty years. She got married to some General and pretty much stopped talking to anyone. He had a hard time with the Immortal thing; so she asked everyone to just kind of stay away. He passed away three or four months ago. That's probably why she's down in your neck of the woods; change of scenery. Also, from what I've heard around here, Amanda and Emerald have spoken probably twenty times on the phone in the last little bit since her husband passed. It appears that the only thing keeping them separate was the General."

Rick grunted into the phone. "My life is about to get way more complicated than I ever wanted it to be."

"You could just tell her to leave."

"No, I can't. Jeff loves her. He's told her about Watchers. She's become a part of our detective team. No, Joe. I'm afraid she's here to stay, whether I like it or not."

Joe's tone abruptly became light. "Hey, Amanda's here. Call me later, will you?"

Rick laughed. "Oh, the irony. Okay Joe, I'll talk to you later."

"Bye."

Rick hung up the phone. He had called Joe after four years to see how things were going, and what should happen but Amanda should arrive. It was just his luck.

Amanda walked up to the bar, her face determined.

"Amanda, it's been ages! Where have you been hiding yourself?" Joe wheeled himself over to her.

Amanda flinched a little. It had been hard for Duncan and Amanda, when Joe had started using his wheelchair. It was as though they had suddenly realized he was dying. He did not use it all of the time, just on 'bad days' as he called them. "I know, Joe. I'm sorry. Life just seems to get in the way sometimes."

"What can I do for you today? It's a little early for a drink, but I'll buy you one anyway, if you want it."

Amanda shook her head. "No, I just need to know something. I asked Donovin about it this morning, and he couldn't tell me; so I thought I'd come to you."

"What's on your mind?" Joe asked.

"Joe, have you ever heard of an Immortal by the name of Rick Cloud?" she asked.

Joe did not flinch. "Rick Cloud?" He shook his head. "Doesn't sound familiar. Why?"

"It's Emmy. I guess she's made friends with him. I just don't want her to get hurt. I mean, David just passed away. She's vulnerable right now."

"Amanda, Emmy is six hundred years old. I'm pretty sure she can take care of herself."

"Duncan said the same thing, but I can't help myself. I worry about her. Emmy's the only best friend I have left. I don't want to lose her, too."

Joe took Amanda's hand. "Believe me, I'm sure Emmy's safe."

"I know, Joe. It's just... I can't help but worry. She's like my sister," Amanda said painfully, giving Joe a pleading look.

"So, why couldn't Donovin tell you anything about this Rick guy?" Joe asked, still patting Amanda's hand.

Amanda sighed, frustration appearing. "Apparently there's this new rule in the Watchers that Servants can't look at other Servants' Immortals. If they want to know about them, they have to call. Donovin says that Jeff Read is his Watcher, and that he is one of the most stand-up guys in the business. So, if this Rick is being watched by him, he's a great guy too."

"There you go, then. I can second Donovin's opinion of Jeff. I met him once. He's the reason I'm considered a hero among the Watchers instead of a criminal." Joe smiled warmly. "She's okay, Amanda. She's been around a long time. I doubt fifty years of married bliss has damaged her good sense."

Amanda nodded. "Thanks, Joe. You've always been the best at making me feel better."

Joe smiled, "How about you bring Mac over on Friday. We're doing a big Blues concert. I'm going to be playing and singing. It'll be nice to have you guys here again. You liven up the place."

"We'll be here. We've stayed away way too long." Amanda kissed Joe on the cheek, said goodbye, and headed for the door.

"What a woman," Joe said to himself as he watched her walk out.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 12

Rick felt the sensation of another Immortal approaching. Although he was sure this time that he knew who it was, he still brought his wrench with him. He kept a tight grip on it until he entered the lobby and saw Emerald's smiling face. "Hey," he said, smiling and letting the wrench hang down.

"Hi. You closing up shop soon?" Emmy asked, leaning against the wall. The light was coming in from behind her, pink and orange and yellow, giving a halo to her dark hair and olive skin and making her look even more gorgeous than usual.

"Yeah. Just putting the final touches on this bike so that we can call the owner in the morning, and I should be done. Did you need something?"

"I wanted to get you away from Jeff, and just talk for a while. I mean, if that's okay," Emmy replied, biting her lip in an agitated manner that Rick could only describe as cute.

"Sure, that would be great. Give me fifteen minutes. You can come in, if you want."

The two walked silently into the garage. Both Manuel and Mike were putting their stuff away and clocking out for the day. They said good night, and the two found themselves alone in the garage. Rick wanted to rush through the work in front of him, but he knew if he did it would take longer. He felt nervous, with Emmy standing there watching him. She was so quiet and motionless, almost like a black cat staring at a mouse hole. The only difference was that she did not seem impatient or ready to strike. No, Emmy seemed relaxed, almost as if she was somewhere else entirely. She was so still, that when Rick would look over at her periodically while he worked, he could not see her breathing. It was like having a living mannequin in his shop.

That was one of the things Rick really liked about Emerald. She was all patience. It was something that set her apart from Amanda. She did not seem to rush headfirst into things. She thought things out, had a plan—at least when she could, it seemed.

"Done," Rick announced, getting up and walking over to the sink in the back of the shop to wash up. Emmy followed, still just as quietly, almost as if she was a ghost, or... a thief trying not to disturb her surroundings. He blinked and smiled. "You walk around like you're casing the place. You realize that, don't you?" he asked, turning from the sink to look straight at her for the first time since she had entered the store that day.

Emmy laughed. "I guess old habits die hard. I was a professional thief for a long time. It just comes naturally to me to size up any place I'm in."

"And to move around the place without disturbing anything," Rick said, smiling at her as she walked toward him.

"That too, I guess." She smiled back at him, and her eyes seemed to sparkle.

"I need to lock up. How 'bout I meet you out front?"

She nodded and headed back out of the store.

He met her about five minutes later, as he pulled down the gate to finish locking up the shop. He cast her a grin. "So, where shall we go?"

"You just want to take a walk with me?" She looked quietly hopeful.

"I have a better idea. There's this amazing park not far from here. It's beautiful to walk through this time of night. It'll help you appreciate the splendor that is Florida." He handed her the extra helmet he kept with his bike.

She took the helmet, but stood looking at the bike non-committedly.

He bent his head and said softly, "Look, I've been riding one of these since I was sixteen. I've done it professionally in over ten different countries. I've won awards for it. So, unless someone shoots out my tire, you will not be dying in a motorcycle accident. Come on, Emmy, you were the one who wanted to get to be friends. Trust me." Rick put on his helmet and climbed onto the bike, then held out his hand for Emmy. She sighed, slid on the helmet, and climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Let's go."

He started the engine, and the two of them were off.

Rick took a deep breath as he brought his bike to a stop in front of the park. There were palm trees all through the grounds. A jogging trail wound its way around the park, and trees and bushes popped up all over the place. He set the kickstand down and helped Emmy climb off of the bike. Then he dismounted himself. The two took off their helmets, and Rick stored them in the bike seat. "So what do you think?"

Emmy looked around, an enchanted smile on her face. "I think it's beautiful."

"When it's raining, and it gets heavy enough to cover the entire sidewalk, it looks like you're walking across the sky. It's one of the most beautiful places I've been on Earth."

She reached out and took his hand. "Walk with me."

He walked with her contentedly. "What's on your mind, Emmy?"

"It's this whole Watcher thing. I wanted to talk to you about it away from Jeff. I mean, he's great, but he's still just a kid, and mortal."

Rick snickered softly. "Yeah, he's definitely a kid." The two kept going along the jogging trail. "It's strange though—it wasn't long ago—I was the one who was considered the kid."

"How long have you been around, anyway?" Emmy asked, looking at her companion.

"Not long. There are still tons of mortals older than I am. In fact, you were married longer than I've been alive."

Emmy laughed. "There's no way! You act so mature. Who was your teacher?"

He flinched, just a little. "I don't talk about it. Let's just say, my first few years as an Immortal I was called upon to deal with more than anyone should. So I changed my name and moved on. Enough about my troubled 'tween years. What did you want to know about Jeff, or the Watchers?"

Emmy sighed. Rick could tell that she was not content with the answer she had received. "You told me yesterday that you've known about the Watchers practically since your first death, how is that? My teacher—her name is Amanda—she told me that there are very few Immortals that know about the Watchers."

"My teacher ran afoul of the Hunters. They were a group of the Watchers who went psycho and started killing Immortals. He found out about the Watchers, and so did I. We became friends with one of them. Good friends, I still call him once in a while."

"So you trust the Watchers?"

"The organization, no. The people, yes. That's the thing; some Watchers are good, and some are bad; that's the same with any group. Overall, I think that what they are doing is important, and I think it's a noble cause, but that doesn't mean I like it. Still, for me, working with my Watcher is far better than being followed around all the time by one. And believe me, after you've gotten to know how they work, you can spot them. Jeff was excellent at his job, and I still cornered him."

She nodded. "But you trust Jeff, right? I mean, with your life?"

"I trust Jeff to always do the right thing, because that's the kind of guy he is. I also trust him to be loyal and true to his friends. He has a pure heart, and he's had it tough, so he really cares about people."

"I guess that's all that matters. One more thing..." Emmy took her hand out of Rick's and turned on the trail to face him. "Why did you have the change of heart you did?"

"You risked your life—your head even—to make sure that Casey got home safe. You did that for Jeff, for me, and for a family you didn't even know. It's been a really long time since I've met anyone like that... especially one of us. It meant a lot." Rick stepped around Emmy and started walking again. He did not want to get this close to her yet.

Emmy grabbed his hand and stopped him. "Rick, what are you running from?"

He looked at her with a peculiarly hopeless expression. "I don't really know anymore. I've come to the conclusion that sometimes you hit a point where you've been running for so long, you forget why you're running. At that point, it's just easier to keep going than it is to feel anymore."

"You and I have something in common then," Emmy said, pulling Rick closer to her and looking into his eyes.

He wanted to look away, but knew she was testing him, so instead he brushed her face with his hand, moving her hair away from her eyes. "What's that?"  
"We've forgotten how to feel." She battled with herself, then suddenly pulled away from him. "I think we should head back, it's almost dinner time."

Rick felt himself tense. He could not help it. "Sure, don't want to make you late for dinner." He sounded angry, even to himself. He wheeled on his heel and started hurrying back towards the bike.

"Rick? Rick, wait up!" Emmy was almost running to catch up to him, he was walking so fast.

He did not slow down. He did not want her to know why he was so upset. He just wanted to get out of here, end this evening. He was on his bike with his helmet in place before Emmy caught up to him. He held out hers, and she took it from him with over-exaggerated force.

"Did you take a car to my shop or a taxi?" Rick asked, as he started the engine.

"My car is in front of the shop. You can drop me off there," Emmy said quietly.

"Fine," Rick replied. He was calming down now, and he felt bad for freaking out on her. They had only known each other for a couple of weeks; very little of which they had actually talked. Most of those times, Rick had been nothing but a jerk to her. He knew she had a right to close herself off. She had lots of reasons to do so, and so did he.

The ride back was quiet, but it began to rain in the late evening. He took the long way through the more beautiful central part of the city. The lights were coming on as the sun was setting, the sky a mix of pinks and oranges. In between each of the light poles stood a palm tree. As the rain came down, it coated the road and as they drove, it began to look like they were driving over the trees and lights. Rick loved taking this street in the rain as much, if not more, than he like walking in the park. There was something magical about it.

By the time they reached the store, Emmy's mood had improved a bit; as had Rick's. "That's what you were talking about in the park, wasn't it? When it looks like that, the sky all pink and orange; the lights and trees. It was so beautiful. I've never seen anything like it."

"How old are you, Emmy?" he asked, while taking off his helmet to look at her.

She handed him her helmet. "I'm six hundred, give or take. Why the sudden interest?"

"It's just nice to know that there will still be things that amaze me when I get that old."

Emmy smiled. "Life is a journey, and the road is what you make of it. If you look for the beauty around you, you'll find it."

Rick smiled and put his helmet back on. "Good night, Emmy."

"Good night, Rick."

He sped off, keeping an eye on Emmy in his rear-view mirror until he could no longer see her.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 13

Emmy could not sleep well that night. She dreamt about Spain and her time training with Duncan. She dreamt about David, and her fifty years of marriage. Then she dreamt about Rick. Those were the dreams she could not tolerate, and she woke herself many times. She would walk across her apartment and look out at the starless sky and wonder. It was true, what she had told Rick. Both of them had been running for a long time; Emmy from the truth, and Rick most likely from his past. He would not explain it or talk about it, which made Emmy believe he was hiding from it, afraid to face it. Perhaps... afraid to face himself.

Emmy's one marriage had not been a happy one, at least not for her. Oh, she had loved David; but when he became older, he became bitter. Not willing to give her up, but not quite as loving as he had been. He had controlled her more and more as the years went by. Emmy had thought about it many times. She had stopped loving him long ago. The truth was that she felt her attempt at marriage was a failure.

She hated feeling that way. She hated feeling as though she had spent fifty years of her life in a lie. A lie that had kept her away from those she held most dear in the world. Now she was running from those demons, trying to create her own identity again and change who she had become... to someone she was.

If she told herself the whole truth, she wanted very much to just fall in love with Rick, and let him love her back. She wanted to have what Amanda had. She had always been jealous of Duncan and Amanda for their on-again off-again relationship. She had never, in all her six hundred years, found another Immortal whom she really truly fancied. Now, as she learned that Amanda and Duncan had become closer than ever before; she could not help but wish that she could find such a comfort. Someone who understood her and would care for her, all of her, not just for the pieces that he wanted.

Emmy's mind raced back in time to a few hundred years before.

 _1796_ _de_ _Valicourt Residence, France_

 _She_ _stood next to Hugh Fitzcairn, crying, though really she did_ _n_ _o_ _t know why. This was_ _n_ _o_ _t the first time the two had been married to each other. They were just renewing their vows. "Do you think they're special?"_ _she asked shakily._

 _"What do you mean special?" Hugh asked, looking indignant._

 _"I mean special. They are the only Immortal couple I know_ _who's_ _ever been madly in love. Especially in love enough to be married for a hundred years without wanting to kill each other afterwards."_

 _"If that's what you call special. I call it boredom. Who wants to spend one hundred years with the same person? I mean really, I'm just surprise_ _d_ _it's lasted this long. You wait another hundred years or so, and Gina will realize what she's missing out on."_

 _Emmy smiled, "And what exactly is that? She has a beautiful home, all the money she could want, and a man who adores and cherishes her. Now tell me_ _,_ _Fitz_ _,_ _what is she lacking?"_

 _"Why_ _,_ _me of course!"_

 _Emmy laughed. "Oh, Fitz_ _,_ _you never cease to amaze me."_

 _"Speaking of amazing, you and I have never enjoyed a night of splendor either_ _,_ _my dear."_

 _"And we never will_ _,_ _Fitz," Emmy said, shaking her head._

 _"You are the only woman I know who would openly cut me down like that," Fitz replied._

 _"Then we need to find other women as brave as Emerald," came the Scottish growl of Duncan MacLeod from behind them._

 _Emmy laughed again. "Oh, you two, do you always banter this way, or only in front of the ladies?"_

 _"We_ _'_ _re always like this. Now, Emmy_ _,_ _you must permit me to ask you to dance." Duncan held out his arm and Emmy took it._

Noises from outside made Emmy come out of her memories. She realized she was hearing the paperboy delivering the paper, which meant it must be around five. In two hours, she was supposed to get up and get ready to open the bookstore at eight. She groaned, and went back to bed, trying to get some decent sleep at last.

Jeff was woken early in the morning by a phone call. It was a long distance number that had to be from out of the country. He grumbled to himself, and pressed the talk button. "Hello."

"Hello? Is this Jeff Read?" a distinctively British, young male voice came from the speaker.

"Yes. May I ask who is calling?" Jeff replied, as he lay on his pillows looking up at the ceiling.

"My name is Donovin Flint. I'm Duncan MacLeod's Watcher. Recently, your Immortal's name has come up in conversation."

"Oh, Rick? Really? Do you know why?" He could not help the smile that spread across his face.

"Apparently he's had some dealings with Amanda's student, Emerald de la Vega. Is that true?"

"Yup. Looks like the two are becoming good friends, too."

"Is Rick trustworthy? I take it he's one of the good guys."

"Absolutely. He's one of the best of the best. A great guy, and a good friend. Tell Amanda that she has nothing to worry about from Rick. The guy's all heart. He just has a thick shell. Most Immortals do, at first."

"Thanks, Jeff. I figured if I called I could at least get Amanda off my back. It may not stop her from visiting, though. She's been really worried about Emmy. I don't know why she's suddenly so protective of her, but she is."

Jeff sighed. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks Donovin. It was nice talking to you."

"One more thing, Jeff."

"What else can I do for you?"

"I wanted to thank you, while I had the chance. You've made a huge difference for me, and for a lot of Watchers out there, and well, we're grateful. All of us."

Jeff smiled; it was nice to get some recognition once in a while. "No problem, man. I'm glad to know that someone is as passionate about this as I am."

"They are more than part of the truth; they are part of the future."

"Amen to that. Alright, well I'm going to let you go. It's still very early in the morning here, and I need to get some sleep."

"No problem, have a good day."

"You, too." Jeff hung up and sighed. "Great," he said to himself. "Now I have to try and explain this to Rick." He groaned, rolled over, and fell back asleep. The day could wait for a few more hours before he had to worry about this.

Jeff walked into the lobby at his usual time, but his manner was much more subdued than Rick was used to. He looked like he had some bad news, and was trying to find a good way of explaining it. "Hey man, what's on your mind?" Rick asked, as they entered his office together.

"I got a call from a Watcher today," Jeff said, running his hand through his hair.

"Okay, why?" Rick asked, sitting down in his chair, and looking up at his friend.

"He wanted to know about you. Ironically, it was Duncan's Watcher. Seems Emmy's been gabbing with Amanda, who is with Duncan right now; who of course is friends with his Watcher. So Amanda asked about you. Donovin, the Watcher, probably looked you up, found out you were tied to a Servant, so called to make sure you were amazing."

Rick laughed weakly. "So why is Amanda calling about me, exactly?"

"I guess she wants to make sure that no one hurts her little girl. Donovin says even if he gives a good report, the way Amanda is acting right now, it may mean she flies down to meet you anyway. I thought I'd give you the heads up."

Rick swore quietly. He stood and paced for a moment, and then he stopped, looked earnestly at Jeff. "I called Joe yesterday. He says it's high time I put an end to this whole thing, and just told everyone the truth. What do you think?"

"Rick, I think you are forgetting something. Immortals take on new names and new lives all the time. It doesn't mean you're lying. You are Rick now. No matter how much I may tease you. Mortals even change their names on occasion to get away from their old lives." Jeff sank into the chair, letting himself rest for a moment.

"So, letting Mac think I was dead wasn't a lie." Rick's lips thinned.

"A mislead, certainly, but not a lie. You forget, I've never known you as Richie Ryan. As far as I'm concerned, you are two different people. You grew up when you took on your new identity. The boy that Duncan MacLeod knew is, for lack of a better word, dead."

Rick slumped back down into his chair. "It's still a lie, Jeff. You can call the apple a pear, but it still tastes like an apple. I know him. I know how bad it hurt him to think he killed me, and I know how hard it will be for him to accept that I'm still alive. I also know how bad it will hurt him to find out that Joe and I kept this from him for so long, together. Then he'll want to know why, and the truth is I don't have the answer to that anymore."

"Don't you?" Jeff asked, leaning forward and looking into Rick's eyes.

"No, I don't. At first, I ran because I was afraid of him. I was tired of almost getting killed by him, and I wanted out of this whole mess he was going through with Ahriman. Then, after the years went by, and I grew up a little more, it stopped being about that. It was just easier to live my own life; to stay away. I don't really have a reason for keeping the deception up this long, except that I wanted to continue having my own life. One I'd finally made for me. I wasn't Duncan MacLeod's shadow anymore, but a separate person. I had respect, friends, clientele, and a business all my own, and I did it on my own. I think I stayed away so long because I wanted to create a life for myself that he could be proud of. So that if he did ever find out that I was still alive, he'd be able to say 'I trained that one.'" Somewhere in the middle of this speech, Rick had gotten up and started pacing the floor again. He stopped and turned to face Jeff, misery etched on his face. "Is it sad for a thirty-six-year-old man to want someone to be proud of him?"

"Well, I'm twenty-four and I still want my family to be proud of me, so I don't think so. Everyone wants someone to be proud of them."

Rick blinked, his face smoothing out, and nodded. "I've grown so much in the last fourteen years, and I think you're right. I think Richie did die that day. The name doesn't even seem to fit anymore. I recreated myself. It's been a great blessing. But all this talk still doesn't solve anything. I still don't know if I should just tell the truth, or wait for the truth to come and find me."

"Well, let me put it for you like this; when surprise is on your side, it's usually better than when it is not. If I was you, and you really do want to have something happen between you and Emmy, I'd put your hand on the table before someone spills it for you." Jeff got up and stretched. "I'm tired, and we still have to get over to the Edison tonight for dinner with Mr. Chase. I swear, if we have to sit through many more of these boring will-meetings I'm going to tell the man the truth. No amount of money is worth this kind of torture."

Rick laughed. "Do you want me to take Emmy tonight? It will make it look less suspicious if I take a lady friend with me this time..."

"If she is game for listening, taping boring legal information, and trying to piece it together for a rich client, I would love the night off. I have to study for the GRE, anyway," Jeff said, leaning against the door frame.

Rick looked surprised. "Why are you taking the GRE? I thought you were totally done with schooling, and never going back to it again."

"I tried to tell you the other day, but we got interrupted. Ms. Green, the publisher, wants to not only make me one of their regular agents, but wants me to get a Master's degree so that she can train me to one day be her successor at the paper, and take over when she retires. Stacy, her secretary, says she's never spoken to anyone about that before, and I should feel honored."

Rick looked at him in the way that only he could. A way that always made Jeff feel naked. "I thought you hated Ms. Green. That she was the dragon lady from the underworld."

"She still is. Even more so now that she's taken such an interest in my life. If I do it, though, I get an actual job at the paper, which pays better, and benefits. Oh, and they pay me back for my tuition at college too."

"Wow," Rick said, his eyes still boring into Jeff, "that's awesome. I'm happy for you."

"No you're not. If I get this job and start working full-time and going to school, it means I'll have less time with you and the investigative work."

Rick smiled slightly. "I don't need to be a detective. I make more than enough money on the bikes. I don't want to hold you back. Besides, the whole agency was your idea, anyway. If you can't do it anymore, I wouldn't mind closing it down." He blinked a few times and that too-penetrating stare settled into a more normal amusement. "You go home and have a good night. I'll get Emmy over to the Edison. I know she's up for it."

Jeff nodded, yawned, and headed for the door. It was going to be a long night.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 14

Emmy smiled at Rick as they sat down at the table across from Mr. Chase and Mr. Arnold's. Rick casually fastened a microphone and recorder under their table. It would pick up the two men's conversation as well as his and Emmy's, but they would be able to listen later and sift through all of the different voices to pinpoint the ones they wanted to hear.

"How was your day?" Emmy asked after the waiter had taken their order.

"Same as always. I live a very boring life." Rick said and winked.

"Me too. We just don't seem to get any action in this town," she replied, and laughed lightly.

"It's because it is such a nice quiet town. No bad guys here." He smiled to himself as he thought back to the beginning of his time in Ft. Myers. That had been a very different time indeed.

 _Ft. Myers April 2006:_

 _Rick walked jauntily into the alleyway and casually to the side where he would be difficult to see. He watched the entrance. As he hoped, the young man he had spotted following him soon paused at the point where sidewalk met alley entrance, looking both directions in a casual manner meant to imply that he was deciding which way he wanted to go. He started walking down the alleyway. Rick slipped up silently behind him, grabbing him and covering his mouth. He felt the man brace himself for a fight and spoke quietly into his ear, "Don't freak out, I'm just checking something." He pulled up the man's left cuff. There was the Watcher tattoo, and another symbol, one he did not recognize, touching it just higher on the wrist. Rick smirked and let him go. "So, you're my Watcher."_

 _The other man spun to face him, looking indignant. "You could have just asked."_

 _"You wouldn't have told me the truth. You're trained to guard that secret with your life." Rick shrugged. "I didn't want you to be replaced."_

 _"I wouldn't have run! So far as we know, you're a good guy!" He was clearly struggling with a mix of embarrassment and tremendous curiosity. Suddenly he blurted, "Some of us take an oath to help those who fight evil and want to protect the human race." He pulled up his sleeve to reveal the other symbol again, tapping it with his finger and giving Rick an earnest stare. "That's what this means. It means I'm a special part of the Watchers. We don't just observe and record, we interfere, for the good of humanity."_

 _Rick blinked, amused and trying to hold back a grin. "What's your name, kid?"_

 _"I'm Jeff Read, and I'm excited to finally get to talk to you, Rick Cloud."_

 _Rick offered his hand, "It's good to meet you, too." The two shook hands, then Rick continued, "Now I need your help."_

 _"You want to clean up the streets here and around this area, don't you?" Jeff asked with a grin._

 _"Yes, I do. It's time someone put a couple of these guys in their place. I'm here, so it might as well be me."_

Emmy touched Rick's sleeve pulling him out of his thoughts. "Hey, what's on your mind? You seem distracted today. Kind of distant."

Rick smiled. "I was actually thinking about how I met Jeff. He has balls, that one. Right from the start there was no rattling him. He doesn't look like it, but he had a tough childhood. He can take out most guys who try him. So long as they're not heavyweights."

"So, how did you meet?" Emmy asked.

"I figured out he was following me, then the Watcher became the watched. I'd dodge around corners quickly, then cut back and see what he would do. Or I'd go somewhere, where he would have to come out into the open anyway, and look for a tape recorder. Finally, when I was sure he was a Watcher; I grabbed him. I checked for the tattoo, and then let him go so I could convince him to work with me."

"Wait, that's something you haven't mentioned before. Watchers have tattoos?" Emmy asked, curious now.

"Yeah, I'm sure you've seen it. It's the symbol on his wrist, the circle with the dots and what looks kind of like a Y in the middle of it. All Watchers have that same tattoo. It's their way of declaring they've taken an oath. To observe and record, but never interfere."

"But Jeff does interfere, doesn't he? I mean that's what he's doing with us, isn't it?" It looked to Rick as though Emmy had all but forgotten about dinner and their assignment to figure out what was going on with Mr. Chase. She was much more interested in Watchers. Rick did not blame her; he had been the same way.

"Why don't we talk more about this later? I can explain everything to you. It's a lot to take in all at once. Kind of like us." Rick smiled again, and started eating his dinner.

Emmy nodded and the two began to eat silently for a couple of minutes, both paying attention to the conversation that was passing back and forth between the couple at the other table. After a while, Emmy gave Rick a pointed look and began a new line of questioning. "So, a while back you told me you've been riding bikes since you were sixteen. What's kept your interest in them for so long?"

Rick grinned. He could tell Emmy was playing with the conversation to make sure the men at the other table did not start to wonder about this quiet couple. He could appreciate her methods. He began to tell her about his troubled youth, how motorcycles had been a form of expression for him, and eventually had become a way of life.

Stories like these bounced back and forth between them. Lighthearted and silly conversation with long silences—the way you would expect on a first or second date. The two played into their characters until the meal was done.

They left about ten minutes after Mr. Chase and Mr. Arnold, for they did not need to follow them. As they got to Rick's car, he noticed that Emmy had a wicked smile on her face. "What's on your mind?" he asked, politely opening the passenger door for her.

She got into the car, and he shut the door. Once he settled himself in the driver's seat, she asked, "How long have you been listening in on these conversations?"

"This is only the third time. The first two weeks were a lot of technical jargon that we didn't understand. Why? What did you get out of this session that I missed?"

"Mr. Chase has a daughter."

"What?" Rick asked, turning his head to stare at her. "Then he _was_ having an affair."

"No, she was born long before he married. It sounds like she was a high school mistake, and that the mother never told him about her. From what I can tell, the girl sought her father out. Now Mr. Chase wants to add her to his will, and he'd also like to tell Mrs. Chase about her. The problem is, he doesn't know how."

Rick gaped at her. "You're positive that's what they were talking about?"

Emmy nodded. "They suspect you or someone else is spying on them in the restaurant, so they are speaking in a sort of code. Not a real code; they just change some words. People do it all the time when they are planning to move valuables. They talk about chess pieces, books, or something else innocuous to cover what it is they are really doing. That way they can try to throw off anyone who might be listening in. A really good thief figures out what's truth, lies, and misleads. That's all. It seems Mr. Chase is on to his wife's snooping."

"How do you know all of this?" Rick asked, shaking his head in amazement.

"Two reasons. One, as I've stated before, for most of my lifetime, six hundred years, I've been a professional thief. You can't be a thief that long and not know the tricks of the trade. The second reason is wills. Often in the 1800s in England, but especially in America where property laws weren't as final, the heirs would want to steal the wills. They would have them changed or simply check them to make sure they got what they felt they deserved, and then have them returned to their rightful place. Another way to do it was having someone who would not be recognized sit close by during a will writing session. These people would then be able to tell the heirs what was said. Often, the writers would use code to throw the snoops off." Emmy shrugged. "I was involved in that market for a time. It could be extremely lucrative."

"So this code, they've been using it for centuries?"

Emmy shook her head. "No, it's not quite like that. There isn't an official code. What happens is the two individuals have set words within their business that they change to throw off the listener. Either the talking that they are doing sounds boring and formal, or like you put it: like technical jargon. Document could mean the person in question. Directive could point towards a certain time and so forth. In so speaking, they can hide the true nature of their conversation while still meeting in public. This was done a lot in the forties, too, by the mob. They would use code to talk about their business dealings. Often they would use weather as their code form."

"Just like in Breakfast at Tiffany's," Rick said, nodding. "So, you understand their code?"

"No, I got parts of it. I want to listen to the tapes. I need to identify key words. Then maybe I can piece together the rest of it."

"Let's get back to the office then," Rick said, and started the car, moving into traffic.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 15

Jeff walked in the next afternoon and was pleasantly surprised to see Emmy already there, in Rick's office, listening to something and writing things down.

"Hello gorgeous creature, what brings you here today?" he asked, and sat down across from her.

She did not reply, only made a hushing motion with her hand and continued listening and writing. He got up and wandered into the garage to talk to Rick. He found him, as always, near one of the many bikes seemingly deeply absorbed in looking it over. Jeff nudged him. "So what's up with Emmy?"

Rick grinned at him. "She's listening to the dinner conversation between Chase and Arnold. She says that the reason we've picked up nothing from their conversations is because they're speaking in code."

"What? What kind of code sounds like that? It's all technical garbage." Jeff leaned against the wall, looking indignant.

"Exactly. It sounds official and boring, but is actually just a cover for what's really going on. Emmy's been working on it all day. She worked on it for a couple of hours last night, too. She can be pretty persistent when she wants to be. It's actually kind of scary," Rick gave him a wide-eyed look of mock terror.

Rick's coveralls were smattered in lots of different black stuff, and it looked fresh. The bike he was staring at clearly was no easy job. Jeff assumed some of the black stuff was oil, but since he did not know anything about motorcycles, he was not sure if there were other chemicals too. A rather acrid scent hung in the air around Rick. Jeff sighed and gave his friend a philosophical shrug. "Well, since you're both busy, I'll just go to the paper early and head home. I've got another long night of GRE study to deal with."

"I still can't believe that you're going to get a master's degree. That's higher education than I've got," Rick said, shaking his head.

"Well, in this day and age it's almost impossible to get a job without it." Jeff smiled, "You gonna be okay without me, today?"

Rick nodded. "I think so. Nothing exciting's going on right now."

"Guys, come here, I think I have it figured out," Emmy shouted from the doorway.

"Or not," Jeff said, chuckling. "I'll meet you in there."

"Yeah, I need to get clean," Rick replied, pulling a rag out of his pocket and starting to clean his fingers.

Jeff headed into the office. This was the kind of stuff he liked; high paying, low-risk jobs. Not that Jeff was afraid of anything; he just liked to get highly paid for minimum work. He considered it the regular attitude of the working class in America. Everyone liked a cheap buck where they could get it. He wondered what his life would be like if he decided to leave the investigation business altogether. He did not like that idea. He had worked too long with Rick to give that up now; even for a really good job.

"Hey beautiful, what you got?" he asked as he reentered the office.

"I'll wait for Rick to come, too. I don't want to explain this twice."

"I'm here," Rick said as he came through the door and slumped into a chair.

"Good. Okay, so here's the boring gist of what's been going on in Mr. Chase's world the last few months," Emmy began. "About three months ago I would guess, from the way they are talking, his daughter contacted Mr. Arnold about arranging a meeting with her father. Mr. Chase agreed. The two met and had a good conversation. The daughter doesn't seem to want anything from her father, except that he becomes part of her family's life now. Which doesn't seem possible to Mr. Chase because of his wife's controlling nature. The two have never had children, and she's not a fan of them.

"He does, however, want to be part of his daughter's life. He feels he owes her that much, but doesn't know how to talk to his wife about it. So at the very least he's changing his will. He's leaving almost everything to his daughter. His wife has made a good deal of money herself over the years, and wouldn't outlive him by more than ten or twelve years anyway. He's planning to introduce them at dinner in a couple of weeks, and then go from there. Before they meet, he wants to talk to his wife about it. The will has been finalized. I think that's what they were talking about last night, and now the rest of the operation is about to begin."

Rick shook his head. "Great... and we're going to ruin it."

Jeff shook his head back at Rick. "Not necessarily, we could talk to Mr. Chase and let him know about his wife's investigation, and ask him what he wants us to do. Then, if he wants us to stay out of it, you tell her that you couldn't figure out what he was doing. You can play the tapes for her. She won't have a clue what they're talking about, and we get out while we're ahead."

"Sometimes, man, you are a genius. How do we talk to Mr. Chase though, without Mrs. Chase catching on?" Rick asked.

Emmy grinned and said, "Simple, I go and talk to him. She doesn't know that I have any connection to your agency, yet. She thinks I'm just a customer. I could get an appointment with Mr. Chase, and even if she knows I'm there, it would all seem like a coincidence."

Rick nodded. "Okay, so you go take what we know and ask Mr. Chase what he wants us to do. Go as if you represent a third party, as if you yourself aren't truly involved."

Emmy nodded. "I'll make the appointment now."

Emmy walked into Mr. Chase's office with the air of a debutant born and raised. She knew how to act in almost any situation, and she knew how to control a scene; at least when things did not involve her personally.

"Mr. Chase, it's a pleasure to meet you," she said, extending her hand to the wary gentleman.

"I would say the same, but I must admit that the phone call you made left me nervous about our meeting," he replied as he shook her hand. "And may I ask your name."

"I'm Emerald Wallace. I'm here representing a third party."

"Oh?" he inquired cautiously, and motioned her to sit.

"Yes. You see, a couple months ago your wife noticed that you were acting rather strangely. That on every Thursday you seemed to be late getting home; always with the excuse of extra work. She hired a private investigator to find out what you were doing. She initially thought that you were having an affair. My... client was willing to find this information out. When my client found out you were instead meeting with an attorney, your wife became worried that perhaps you had a desire to divorce her. My client disproved this as well by doing research on your lawyer. I'm afraid to admit that even after these reassurances, your wife wasn't satisfied. She wanted to know the full extent of what was passing between you and this attorney. My client has found out the truth and it's left him with a minor ethical dilemma." Emmy stopped there, giving him time to respond.

"What is the dilemma?" Mr. Chase inquired, leaning on his hands on the desk.

"He has learned that what you are dealing with is your daughter. He feels that disclosing this information in an inconsiderate way may ruin your chances of creating a happy meshing of your families. My client doesn't want to do that. He feels you are in the right, and would like to know if you would rather the matter was buried." Emmy leaned back in the chair and waited for this to sink in.

"Your client is an honorable person to think about my feelings in this situation," Mr. Chase replied, also leaning back. "Naturally I'd prefer to take care of this matter within my own family. My only question is what was it that your client was going to share that would reveal this to my wife?"

"For the past several weeks, my client has been recording your dinner conversations with your attorney. It took him a long while to decipher the code that you and your attorney were speaking. Naturally—without knowledge of what is really being said between the two of you—the conversations will seem as mundane and boring to your wife as they initially did to my client." Emmy smiled at him, "You will be clear to take care of the problem yourself, and my client can simply walk away. Especially now that we know you are an honorable man, in every respect."

Mr. Chase smiled back at Emmy, looking as though a weight had lifted from him. "My thanks go out to both you and your client. It is very kind of you to know when to interfere and when to leave things alone. Out of curiosity, why is your client so honorable? He does make a living doing investigative work, after all."

Emmy shrugged, getting to her feet, and he rose with her. "My client is more interested in moral standards than money. If a man is cheating, his wife should know. If he's involved in something illegal, the same. If he is simply a nice man dealing with a difficult situation, my client has a tendency to want to try and let things play out the way they should. We wish you luck Mr. Chase."

They shook hands again, said formal farewells, and she left.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 16

Emmy arrived at the shop on Saturday around 3:30, right as Jeff was pulling up too. "I thought you didn't come on Saturdays," she said as she opened the shop door.

"I usually don't, but I wanted to find out what happened with Mr. Chase," Jeff replied, taking over holding the door open and motioning her inside.

Emmy smiled. "It went well. Now you two just have to figure out a way to tell Mrs. Chase."

Jeff sighed. "Yeah, I'm not looking forward to that part. Thankfully though, I'm just the side man, not the top dog. Rick is the one who really has to deal with this situation."

"What situation is that?" Rick asked, as he walked into the lobby.

Emmy smiled. She knew he had felt her approach and had come to greet her.

"Remind me I can't sneak up on him when you come with me," Jeff said with mock indignation, waving a hand towards Rick.

Rick snickered. "You could never sneak up on me when you were by yourself. I'm amazed you ever survived watching your previous Immortal."

Jeff glared at him in genuine indignation, now. "Ha ha."

Emmy laughed. "Come on you two. We have serious things to discuss."

"You're telling me," Jeff said, "and I have some other information that you aren't going to like."

"I hate it when you say things like that, it's never a good sign," Rick said as they entered the office. He looked to Emmy. "So, what did Mr. Chase say?"

"He wants to deal with the situation himself. And he thanks you for being a man of honor."

Rick nodded. "So we play the tapes for Mrs. Chase, let her see for herself there's nothing in those conversations, and tell her we're not taking this any further. This situation is obviously one for her to deal with at home. I'm sure she'll throw a fit, but at least we won't have to deal with her anymore."

"Amen," replied Jeff. "No more having to deal with the crazy woman."

"Okay Jeff, what's the bad news?" Rick asked.

"There have been some random killings down in Pine Manor. Only thing is, they've been done with a sharp instrument. It looks to the coroner like it might be a sword. I'm going to see what else I can find out. Do a general check of Immortals in the area. We could be dealing with a new visitor. One we'd rather not let..." Jeff trailed off.

"Great, another Immortal to deal with. Just what I wanted to hear," Rick said, rolling his eyes.

"Come on man, it's not that bad is it?" Jeff asked with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Rick snorted at him.

"Besides who says you have to be the one to take care of it. I could go and challenge this guy," Emmy interjected.

"No," Rick replied, too quickly.

"Why? It's what we do." Emmy crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Besides, I have way more experience than you do."  
"That doesn't necessarily make you a better swordsman," Rick replied.

Jeff rolled his eyes at the ceiling. "Guys, I'm going to go. You can argue about who's the top dog of the Immortals without me. I have tests to study for." He made motions towards the door, and then started walking. "See ya."

"Bye," Rick said, looking to continue the argument, but Emmy was following Jeff.

"Wait, what tests?" she asked.

"I'm studying for the GRE. I'm going to go to Grad school."

"Wow! Good luck with that," Emmy said, nodding.

"Thanks, I'll need it," Jeff replied with a grin, and with that he was out the door.

Rick walked up behind Emmy and said quietly, "So I've been thinking..."

She turned to face him, lifting one eyebrow in an expression of inquiry. "Yes?"

"We should spar sometime. I haven't just sparred with another Immortal since, like, '96."

Emmy hit Rick's stomach softly. "I guess we both need the practice, then. It's been longer for me. When and where would you like to go?"

"I actually have a very big workout room in my house, and maybe tonight? Around seven, I'll even make you dinner beforehand."

Emmy smiled. "You cook too?"

"After a while, you get tired of frozen food. You learn. Most Immortals are good chefs. Fitzcairn was a great one, as I recall," Rick had a dreamy expression on his face.

"You knew Fitz?" Emmy asked, surprised.

Rick smiled sadly. "Yeah, he was a great guy."

Emmy was staring at him with wide-eyed surprise. "Full of himself, though," she said, her tone uncertain.

Rick ducked his head and laughed. "Yeah, I guess he was. Listen Em, that's something I want to talk to you about, too."

"I take it you want to talk about it more privately."

He nodded.

She nodded in turn. "Okay, see you at seven, then."

The afternoon could not have dragged on longer for Emmy had she been sitting in a class taught by Ben Stein. It had been half past four when she left Rick's garage and headed for home. She took her time showering, then cleaned her sword thoroughly, and then cleaned up her house. And still the two and a half hours seemed to take forever. She wanted to know what was on Rick's mind. She had a feeling that learning it would be some sort of breakthrough for them.

She had been terrified about what was going on between them, because she was afraid that it was just a rebound. However, her marriage had been almost loveless for so long, perhaps at this point it was impossible to rebound. The other reason was that falling for an Immortal had been something she had wanted for such a long time, that it was very difficult for her to believe she was in the real world.

It was finally a quarter to seven, and Emmy grabbed her sword, her purse, and her keys, and ran out the door. It was time to find out what Rick was running from.

Rick called Jeff once he got off, and to his surprise he actually got his friend on the phone.

"What now? Did the earth fall off its axis?" Jeff sounded a little annoyed.

"You've been studying too long, you're grumpy."

"Tell me something I don't know. And why is it no matter how old you get, or how advanced you get in math, when you take a standardized test there is always a question about two trains going different directions?" Jeff asked.

"Because no one ever gets it right," Rick replied. "I'm telling Emmy about my past."

"What? When?" Jeff's tone changed from annoyed to interested in a second.

"Tonight. I'm going home to make dinner now."

"Wait, are you telling me that you and Emmy have a dinner date?" Jeff asked excitedly.

Rick really wished he could see Jeff's face, as he was sure his expression was hilarious. "No, we're just having dinner. Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. What do you think of that?"

"I think this means I'm probably going to have to stop calling her hottie and beautiful, or I'm going to get my lights punched out by my best friend." Jeff said wryly.

Rick snickered, "Oh Jeff, what would I do without you?"

"Probably start acting your age and be extremely boring. The way you were when I first met you four years ago. Now, I have to continue trying to figure out when my two trains are going to pass each other, and you need to go get yourself looking like a masterpiece, so I'm going to let you go. But I want details. Not just because I'm a total perv, but because I'm your Watcher and it's what I do."

Rick laughed. "Night, Jeff. I'll talk to you tomorrow."


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 17

Emmy rang the doorbell, and wondered afterwards if ringing the doorbell was too formal. Rick opened the door only a few seconds later, a slightly nervous smile on his face. "Hi."

"Hi," Emmy said, and he motioned her in.

"So, ready for some crazy Papa Rellena and salad?"

"Papa Rellena. I've never heard of that, what is it? Though I know it has potatoes in it."

He grinned at her over his shoulder. "It does indeed. It's actually a Peruvian Dish." He led the way to the kitchen. "I learned how to make it while I was in Lima, about eleven years ago."

"You've lived in South America?" she asked. She was smiling now. This is what she wanted. Rick was finally starting to open up.

"I did, for about three and a half years. I spent most of my time making money, in a not so luxurious or legal way."

"You sold drugs?" Emmy asked, raising her eyebrow.

Rick laughed. "No, I ran the underground bike syndicate."

"Oh, I see. Not quite as bad as I thought it would be," said Emmy.

"Well, my lady, dinner is getting cold, so you take a seat and I will bring the food to you."

Emmy did as she was bid, enjoying this new, softer side of Rick. He was all charm tonight. He came to the table with salad, bread, and of course the Papa Rellena. She took a deep breath and smiled. "It smells fantastic."

"Wait until you actually try it before you decide," Rick said, but he was grinning, giving Emmy the impression that he was sure—whatever he said—that it was good.

She took a few seconds to collect food onto her plate and then began to eat. The Papa Rellena was delicious. It was a potato dish stuffed with spiced ground beef, and it tasted amazing, especially when eaten with bread and salad. For several minutes, she did not say anything; she was just enjoying the food. Finally, she grinned at him. "I don't care what anyone says. The best food you can find is the food that comes out of the kitchen of people who really like to cook."

"So," Rick said, setting down his fork, "does that mean you like it?"

Emmy nodded, and watched as a happy smile formed on his face. "It's delicious. I love it."

"Thank you. You're not just saying that, are you?" he asked, giving her a searching look.

She laughed. "No, it really is good. I really do love it."

He nodded. "Good, I'm glad."

"Okay, now that you know I like your food; it's time to share what's been on your mind since earlier today."

It was his turn to laugh. "Has it been driving you crazy all afternoon?"

Emmy smiled and held up her thumb and index finger. "Just a little."

The smile slipped from his face. "I'm warning you now; this is not a short story... nor is it a completely fun one either."

She nodded, "I've had a few like that myself over the years."

Rick sighed. "I was taught by a good friend of yours. Duncan MacLeod."

Emmy blinked and straightened up. "Wait, that doesn't make any sense! I asked Duncan and Amanda if they knew you and neither one of them recognized your name!" She was extremely confused.

His lips twitched slightly. "They wouldn't. I wasn't born Rick Cloud. I've used this name for almost as long as my original name, though. In 1996 I changed it, to try and make a clean break from my life. In fact, Duncan and Amanda still think I'm dead." He leaned back in his chair.

"Why? Duncan is one of the greatest men I know. Why would you want to hide from him?" Emmy asked, surprised.

"That's where things get complicated. When we first met, I asked you why we should be friends when our only purpose was to try and kill each other. I've had that mindset for a long time because of Duncan." He stood up from the table, his food forgotten, and began to pace back and forth behind his chair. "You see, because Duncan is such a great man—as you say—trouble has a tendency to follow him. And because it followed him, it followed me. Very early in my time as an Immortal Duncan, was being—" he paused mid-step, twirling his hand, brow furled as he sought words, "—I don't know. Telepathically brainwashed by another Immortal. He was out of his head and fighting invisible monsters, and almost killed me. That was the first time. Then a year later, he took a Dark Quickening—"

Emmy interrupted, shocked, "Dark Quickenings are just a myth, aren't they?"

Rick stopped pacing and shook his head, giving her a haunted grimace. "No, they're not. I really don't know how it was that he came back from it. Duncan never said, but I think Methos had something to do with it."

"Methos is real too?" Emmy gaped at him.

"Yeah, the old man has a soft spot for me, but more about that later. The point is, if you were to call Duncan up right now and ask him about it, he would tell you that it's true. After that, it took Duncan a long time to bring me back. I thought then that the main thing we needed to learn as Immortals was that there can be only one. Mac pulled me back, he asked me to forgive him. And I did," he finished in a shaky voice.

Emmy blinked, absorbing it all. "So, why does he think you're dead?"

"Because that isn't the last time he almost killed me."

She stared at him. "MacLeod almost took your head three times?"

"Yes. The last time it wasn't that he tried, it's that he thought he _had_. Mac was facing Ahriman, a demon that comes to try and take over the world every thousand years."

"Okay, this sounds like something out of a bad fantasy story." She felt as though her head were swirling. Telepathic Immortals, Dark Quickenings, Methos, and a thousand-year demon? She really should talk to Amanda about Duncan MacLeod.

Rick gave her a toothy grin that did not reach his eyes. "I know. I think back on it and the whole thing seems unreal to me, but it really did happen that way. I know it's hard to believe. I wouldn't believe it at all if I hadn't lived through part of it myself. But I did, and I can tell you, it really was terrifying."

"Okay, but none of this explains why Duncan thinks you're dead," Emmy replied, staring at him in confusion.

"One night during the whole mess with Ahriman, I thought I saw our friend Joe, Duncan's Watcher, being kidnapped by an old enemy. I followed them to an abandoned warehouse. When I went inside I found Duncan. I don't know what was going on, but he was standing in a big empty area. I was going to help him, determined to fight this demon with him. I saw him swaying in a circle, waving his sword in the air at nothing. Suddenly, this other Immortal showed up. I don't know if he was sent by Ahriman or someone else, but Duncan just took his head. Only for some reason, he thought it was me. As the Quickening started, I headed outside. Just as I left the building, Joe and Methos pulled up. This made me realize that the Joe I'd seen had been an illusion.

"I told them about the other Immortal, and asked them to pretend he was me. Then, with Methos' help, I disappeared. Something broke inside of me that night. I don't know if I was just afraid, or if I just felt it was time for me to go. I met up with Methos later that night. The next day, I got the hell out of there.

"The next thing I knew I was on a plane to Bogota, Columbia. Methos hooked me up with money and a place to stay. I paid him back with interest in like three months, and that was before I could speak Spanish. Things just fell into place down there. Anyway, Joe and Methos edited the chronicles—that's what the Watchers call their histories of us—and made it look like I was dead. Then, once I was down there, Methos helped me create a whole new identity. And now here I am, Rick Cloud. It was a lot easier to forget it all in South America. So the person I was is now gone, buried, and for a really long time I thought he'd stay buried forever. Then, three weeks ago I met this girl named Emerald Wallace who needed her bike fixed." He stopped speaking and smiled somewhat sadly at Emmy.

Realizing he was waiting for her reaction, she nodded. She phrased her question carefully. "So, what was the exact reason that you wanted Duncan to think he really had killed you?"

"I think because I wanted to make a totally clean break," Rick said. "I spent my first five years as an Immortal living in his shadow. After witnessing him think he killed me—knowing that if I had only been ten feet closer, it would have been me—I was just done. All I knew then was that being around Duncan was dangerous for me, and I had to get away."

"Why didn't you tell him the truth later, when it was all over?" she asked, frowning.

Rick sighed and began pacing again, and then he stopped and answered without looking at her. "At first it was because I was angry. I was mad at Duncan for everything he'd put me through. I was mad at myself for being a coward and running. I was mad at the world because I couldn't admit I was mad about the first two things. That's why I hardly ever talk about my time in South America. It was dark; probably the darkest time of my life. I did a lot of things I'm not very proud of, but I also grew the most. I learned who I wanted to be, and who I didn't. And it was while I was down there that I lost all trust for Immortals." He looked at her with a wan smile. "Thank you for giving me that back, at least partly."

Emmy gave him a warm smile in return. "You're welcome, but please continue."

Rick nodded, and began again, "After I left South America, I went to college. While I was there I was just too busy. It was six years of intense study, and believe me, with my childhood that was difficult for me. So, during that time period," Rick shrugged, "I really didn't think about it. Then I moved down here and, well, I got so involved in my life, with Jeff as my trusty sidekick, and a slew of girlfriends who just didn't last... It was just easier to forget about it and think about who I was now."

It was Emmy's turn to nod, "And then you met me and I turned your world upside down."

Rick shook his head. "On the contrary, I think you just put my world back into place. Though I am my own person now, the truth is I never would have become that person, nor had this life, if it hadn't been for Duncan MacLeod. I grew up in and out of foster care. I was a petty thief and a punk kid. If Mac hadn't taken me in, changed my world, I would have become some deadbeat who probably wouldn't have lasted as an Immortal for more than a couple of years."

He sat back down, and started eating again. For some reason this really amused Emmy, and she laughed. This startled him and he asked, "What? Why are you laughing?"

"Exposition gives you an appetite I take it," she replied, trying to stop laughing.

Rick nodded sheepishly, "A guy's got to have his meat and potatoes, ya know."  
She shook her head, then she looked at him more intently, "So what exactly is the plan for you, then?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean are you planning to tell Duncan now?"

Rick nodded slowly, but he looked worried. "I just don't know how. It's been fourteen years, Emmy. That's a long time to wait to tell someone the truth. And Mac's not one to let go or forgive himself for killing his own student. It's going to be a shock and a bit of a betrayal, as well."

Emmy sighed, and this time she took her turn to stand from the table. "You're right about that. In fact, I really don't know how Duncan is going to deal with this."

He grinned evilly. "So let's tell Amanda first."

Emmy laughed. "Oh, you would say that."

"Look, rumor has it Amanda is extremely worried about your safety and is planning on coming to visit you. So let's give her a visit she can remember. Then we can get her help in finding a way to tell Mac. You could even invite her down."

"What for? I mean, Florida is pretty, but not call-and-have-Amanda-visit-from-Paris pretty."

"I was kind of hoping..." Rick stood up, walked around the table and took Emmy's face gently in his hands, "that it might be because you wanted to introduce her to your new boyfriend." Then he leaned in and kissed her on the lips.

Emmy, though slightly surprised by his sudden act, did not pull away. It was an interesting kiss. He was cautious for all his seemingly bold move, and brushed her lips gently with his. She leaned into the kiss, grabbing the back of his head with her right hand and curling her fingers into his hair. He felt warm and solid, and this touching had an intimacy she had missed for years. It was dizzying.

After a moment, he broke off the kiss and looked at her with a warm smile and slightly glazed eyes. He cleared his throat. "What do you think, Em?"

She nodded. "Okay." Her mind was racing; she did not how to feel. She had not been expecting this development. Rick was falling in love with her, just as she was with him. And now she did not know what to do.

He looked suddenly anxious. "Are you okay? Was that too fast?" He stepped back and took her hands in his, looking into her eyes.

"No, it's not you, it's all me, it's all in my head. I can't believe that this is happening."

"It is too fast, isn't it? Especially with your husband dying so recently. I'm sorry. Even at thirty-six, I'm still too impetuous."

Emmy pulled her hands from his and gripped his biceps firmly. "Rick, it's fine, it's really not you. And yes, you are still impetuous, but it's not a bad thing." She sighed. "Since it seems to be story night, it's time I told a little of mine. Come sit with me." She nodded her head towards the living room and the couch.

Rick nodded and put his arm around her waist, going with her into the living room. They sat down together. "What can I do?"

She smiled, softness in her eyes. "Just hear me out. The reason that I seem so... scared, isn't because you moved too quickly. It's because I can't believe this is actually happening."

Rick gave her a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"

"First, I mean I spent the last twenty or so years of my life in a loveless marriage to a mortal. That can really do things to your psyche. You see, when I married David, I promised myself that no matter what, I would see it through to the end. I wouldn't have an affair, and I would never propose divorce.

"I wasn't like most Immortals I knew. I'd never been married before. And I never had an Immortal love, either. Oh sure, I'd slept with my fair share of Immortals and mortals alike, but I never spent more than a couple of years with any of them. That was the way I liked it. At least, that's what I told myself. Then I met General David Stephen Wallace. At the time, he was a great man. He was kind, sensitive, and giving. He was funny, fun, and I could tell he really loved me. Then the years went past; he got older, and I didn't. Somewhere along the way he went from loving me to owning me. I was the pretty girl that draped his arm as he did things. I don't know if it was just his way of dealing with my immortality, or if he'd always been that way, and I only noticed it after I stopped loving him. Either way, by the eighties, I came to the conclusion that marriage was an error I would not make again; at least not with a mortal man.

"The only problem was, in all the time I'd been alive, I'd never fallen in love with another Immortal. Not the way that Amanda and Duncan are in love, or Robert and Gina." She shook her head. "No, I was always too picky for that. Yet I envied them their relationships. I wanted that so bad for myself—but no matter how many Immortals I befriended—not a single one of them ever seemed to light that spark in me."

She stood up, moving a few steps away from him and the couch. "After all that time with David, and watching as Immortal friends fell in love with each other one by one; I began to think I wasn't lovable. Then I met you, and I wanted so badly for you to even like me as a friend. This is unbelievable for me."

Rick smiled and stood, coming over to stand in front of her. "Don't let it be unbelievable. Let it be real." He put his arms around her and gently pulled her closer. "I want this, too. I want to have something special with you."

She stepped back a little so that she could look him in the eye. "But it's so fast."

His eyes were warm as they met hers, and a little sheepish. He shrugged. "Sometimes it just happens that way. No one understands emotions fully—not even therapists—and _our_ emotions are even harder to pin down." He pulled her close again, running his hands lightly up and down her back.

She considered the sensation, and found it enticing rather than invasive. She chuckled. "Yes, and just being old doesn't make you wise. Fitz was the perfect example of that."

"I hate to say it, but Amanda is the perfect example of that," Rick countered with a fiendish grin.

"Amanda is a player and a con artist. It's what she's good at. But it has also kept her from becoming the wisest person." Emmy sighed. "I do miss her."

"So what do you think? You want to bring her down here to meet me?" Rick asked, lifting up Emmy's face to look into her eyes.

Emmy smiled. It was a free smile that made her look eighteen, and not weighed down by six hundred years of experience and recent loneliness. "I think we might be able to devise a scheme to outwit the schemer..."

"I take it you have practice," he grinned back at her.

"Oh yes, one of Amanda's and my favorite games was to steal things from each other, and we love to play mind games with one another." Emmy was smiling with nefarious intent, now.

"Fantastic. Let me know what happens, won't you?" Rick said.

"I think I can do that."

"Yeah?" He bent his head and brushed his lip across hers again.

"Yup," She replied, and tugged him closer for kisses as they maneuvered back towards the couch.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 18

Rick's phone rang early the next morning. He picked it up and spoke groggily, "Hello?"

A too-cheerful voice chirped, "Good, you're awake! I was afraid I'd wake you up."

"Jeff, you did wake me up, now what is it you want?" Rick replied sourly.

"Your help, actually. I'm in jail," Jeff replied.

"You're what?" Rick said, shooting up in bed, wide awake.

"I'm in jail. Apparently, people frown on you breaking into their houses."

"You broke into someone's house?"

"Yes, and I saved a cat, so it wasn't all bad."

"Jeff, tell me it's April fool's day, and you're joking."

"I wish I could, big man, but uh, no. I'm really in jail. Good news is I'm getting released fairly soon, but I will need a ride home. If you think you can manage it."

Rick sighed and ran his free hand over his face, "Tell me this had to do with work."  
"Mine or ours?"

"Yours."

"Oh, yeah. Well, kind of. Look can you just get down here, and I'll explain everything."

"Fine, but it better one heck of a story, or I'm putting you right back in that cell." Rick pressed end, wishing that he could slam down his cell. Just ending the conversation did not provide the same satisfaction.

He rolled out of bed and started getting ready to pick up his friend at the county jail.

Jeff paced back and forth in his cell, wondering when Rick would arrive. He did not have bail, court, or anything else, which was nice, but sitting in a jail cell all night was not his idea of a good time either.

At last, Rick came waltzing in looking like the disapproving... younger brother. It was hard to look like the disapproving father when you died as young as Rick.

Jeff grinned at him with relief. "You, sir, are a sight for sore eyes."

"And you are a pain in the ass," replied Rick testily. He looked at the guard. "What's his bail?"

"Doesn't have any. They just wanted him held until someone was willing to take him home today. Didn't think it'd be his little brother," replied the guard.

"Yeah, well, he's the black sheep, someone has to be the voice of reason." Rick's irritation was still very clear. He hated that everyone thought he was some snot-nosed teenage brat. Okay, so he had been, once. That had been years ago. Now he was a mature business man, with a lot of money behind him.

The guard grunted and let Jeff out of his cell. "Next time, if the key doesn't fit the lock, check the building number."

"Of course officer. I'll remember that," Jeff said earnestly. He looked like he was fighting an impulse to salute.

The guard gave him a half-hearted glare. "And go home earlier; the streets aren't safe that time of night, anyway."

Jeff simply nodded this time, then turned to Rick. "Ready?"

"Sure, let's get you home, so Mom can rip your ear off," Rick said, as he put his hands on Jeff's shoulders and steered him out to freedom.

"Sounds fun," Jeff replied, swallowing.

The two left the police station and hurried to Rick's car. Once they were inside, Rick didn't even give Jeff time to breathe. "Explain," he demanded forcefully.

"I got in late and went to the wrong building complex. My key didn't work, so being tired and overly stressed, I decided to force the lock. Only it wasn't my house and once I'd gotten the door open, I was almost shot by an eighty-year old man."

Rick just stared at him. "I thought you were supposed to spend the night studying for the GRE."

"I was, but then I got bored. So I decided to go and do a little bit of detective work to find out if this guy who they think is doing the killings in Pine Manor is actually an Immortal. So I went down to that part of town to get a picture of him. Only it was pretty late at night before I was able to get a good look at him and take his picture without him noticing. By then, I just wanted to get out of that place. Do you have any idea how terrifying Pine Manor is after dark?"

Rick's gaze flicked over him worriedly. "Yes I do. That is why you do not go down there chasing after Immortals; at least not unless I'm with you. It wouldn't hurt you to start practicing some martial arts with me."

"But you were out with Emmy. There was no way I was ruining that. It was way too good to be true. By the way, how did that go?" Jeff asked eagerly.

"Later, finish your story."

"Not much more to say. I came home from my late night stake-out tired, paranoid, and a little out of it. I ended up going to the wrong building. Anyway, the police put me and the old man in jail for the night to teach us a lesson about disturbing the peace. It was a learning experience."

"Well, now that you've been punished for your crime, I'll drop you off at home, and then you can finish your research on Mister Pine Manor. Though, I really doubt it's an Immortal. Not many Immortals would live in Pine Manor. They're more egotistical than that."

"I agree. I'm going to look into some other avenues on my end. I'll start by making some calls and seeing if there's been any activity within the Watchers. I still have to check out the leads I'm given; no matter how off-base they may be."

"Oh, the police could be right. He might be the killer. I just don't think that he's an Immortal. Normal people kill with blades as well."

Jeff sighed. "I know, but if it's not an Immortal, that means I can't get involved any deeper in it."

"You live to get into trouble don't you?" Rick asked, his smile somewhat melancholy.

"Yes, it's one of my specialties, along with wooing women and eating ice-cream," Jeff said affectionately.

Rick rolled his eyes and started the engine, pulling the car out into the street. "I have a feeling it's going to be a long day."

"Hey, come on, I'm not that bad," Jeff said, a picture of innocence.

"Yes, you are. You just can't see it yet because you haven't grown up," Rick shot back.

"And I don't intend to."

"I've been wrong about you, Jeff."

Jeff raised his eyebrows. "Oh, what do you mean?"

"You're not Peter Parker, you're Peter Pan."

Jeff laughed. "Yes, being chased by the one-handed pirate Hook. I am the leader of the Lost Boys. Flying around Neverland making friends with the fairies, the mermaids, and the Indians; all to stop a crew of bloodthirsty pirates."

Rick smiled. "All the while, you're leading a crocodile to find the delicious pirate scallywag."

"Second star to the right and straight on until morning."


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 19

Emmy stared at her cell, trying to decide if she was really going to call Amanda. Calling Amanda and telling her about Rick, about how she felt, was terrifying. She had always wanted to have the intensity of connection that was blossoming with him, but now that it was happening to her, she was really scared. In all her six hundred years of life, she had never found anyone with whom she felt she could spend forever. After David, she had doubted it even more. Yet fate seemed to be showing her that she was wrong. Here he was, staring at her, an Immortal still younger than most mortals. Amanda had been well over six hundred when she had first met the then rather young Duncan MacLeod.

It had taken them centuries to become what they were now, though. Emmy had only known Rick for three weeks. Was it really possible for something this amazing to happen in only three weeks? She thought back to that first coffee date with Jeff, and how she had tried to learn more from him about the smoke-eyed, sharply alert Rick Cloud. Through subsequent coffee dates she and Jeff, in only a few days, had become very close friends. Emmy was aware that you could become friends with someone in only a day, but she had never thought it possible that it could take as little time to fall in love with someone.

Finally, she hit her speed dial and waited for it to connect on the other side.

"Hello?" questioned Duncan's familiar voice.

"Hello, old friend," Emmy replied, staring at the wall and trying to decide if standing was a good idea. "Is Amanda around?"

"You know, you never seem to want to talk to me. Why is that?" Duncan asked teasingly.

"Because you're not a very good conversationalist over the phone," Emmy answered, drawn to smile.

"Fine, I'll get Amanda," Duncan said in a pouty voice.

The phone was handed over and Amanda's powerful alto voice came on the line. "Yes?"

"Hi beautiful, how are you?"

"Oh, Emmy, I'm so glad it's you. So how are things going with this Rick Cloud fellow? Any better? Give me details!"

Emmy laughed. "Why don't you come meet him for yourself?"

"Are you serious?" Amanda asked. Emmy could just imagine her sitting up in a chair, wondering if she had really heard that correctly.

"He kissed me last night," Emmy said, quietly.

There was no reply on the other end for a second, and then Amanda asked, "Wasn't he trying to avoid contact with other Immortals?"

"Amanda, give me some credit. You are not the only one who can weave magic with men."

"Oh, honey, you know very well that's not what I meant." Amanda tone had become the one she used only with the few Immortals she had taught. It was the voice of a mother with her kids. It did not matter how old an Immortal got, their teacher was still pretty much their parent. "I mean, what's changed? Did you whisk him off his feet or something? And aren't you worried about this? I mean it's a bit soon since David died, isn't it?"

This did cause a stab of pain through Emmy's heart, but only for the sad memories it stirred. "Amanda, I think I stopped being in love with David more than twenty years ago. This isn't a rebound. It's perfect timing. Besides, Rick's changing... I think both of us are." She paused for a moment, taking a breath. "Amanda, I really want you to come and meet him."

"Okay, I'll discuss it with Duncan and we'll come down soon."

"Why can't you come by yourself?" Emmy knew that she needed to separate the two for the first official meeting. Amanda would be a great help if they could just get her on her own. "It'll be a nice break for you two. I know sometimes you need that. Rick's even offered to pay for your ticket. He says it's time he built some friendships in the Immortal world again. Besides, Duncan can be... a bit intimidating." She almost laughed for using that ruse.

Amanda sighed into the phone. "Well, that's true, and it would be fun to have a vacation for a few days. Oh, I could get a nice tan, go to the beach. You know, that actually sounds like a great idea, now that I think about it."

Emmy smiled to herself. "Good. Well then, how about you come down on Monday? Think you can swing the tickets by then?"

"Sure, I'll have your... friend Rick, pay me the money after, shall I?"

"I'm sure that Rick would be fine with that. We'll take you to dinner that night and everything. There's this cute little Italian and Pizza place I like to go to called Nino's that I think you will just love."

"Well, now you have got me excited! Oh, but the twenty-two-hour flight is going to kill me!" Amanda said with mock melodrama.

"I'm sure we can find ways to make up for it," Emmy replied, laughing. She was already scheming up things to do with her best friend.

Rick was starting to get used to sensing other Immortals regularly, but when the buzz hit him in the shop, he still reacted cautiously. He walked into the lobby, wrench in hand, just in case. It was not Emmy this time; it was Marcus. Marcus was a lawyer who lived in Lehigh Acres, a sort of a subdivision of Ft. Myers to the east. He was one of two other Immortals in the area that Rick had left alone when he cleaned up the streets back in '06.

For a lawyer, Marcus was an honest man. He also believed mortals were just as important as Immortals. Though he and Rick were not friends, they felt no antagonism towards each other, and when trouble hit they usually discussed it.

The other Immortal in the area was older and went by John, but he kept to himself and traveled a lot. The only reason that Rick knew about him at all was because he had fixed his bike once. John was a decent man as well, going about his life in quiet solitude. It was a life that Rick would never choose, nor did he understand it, but he did respect it and so left him alone.

"Marcus," Rick said with a careful smile on his face. "How can I help you?"

"I've seen the news about some killer hacking people up with a sword. Have you heard anything about it?" Marcus met his eyes with solemn directness.

"I've got my guy looking into it." Rick always referred to Jeff as his guy to Marcus. It made him sound like a mortal employee who knew about Immortals and had ties to the media. In other words, he had resources that neither of them could get to without attracting too much attention.

"Does he have any idea what's going on?" Marcus asked, brow furling in worry.

Rick shook his head, "He was on a stakeout all night last night on the guy the police think it is, but I think they're wrong."

"Why?"

"Guy's down in Pine Manor. Doesn't seem like the kind of haunt for an Immortal now, does it?"

Marcus nodded unhappily. "But looks can sometimes be deceiving, as we well know."

Rick sighed. "I know. All I can tell you right now is that Jeff's on it. There's no one I know who is better at finding things out. He's the master of deception. You want to know if anything pops up?"

Marcus nodded again. "Also, if Jeff is good at Google searching, ask him to find information on an Edward Mathieson. He was born in England in the late 1800s. He moved to America in the early 1900s, was a serial killer for a while, then disappeared."

"One of us I take it," Rick said, frowning.

Marcus' troubled expression turned into a full scowl, inwardly directed. "Yes, and he is a devious prat, too. I tried to take him then, but he caught my tail and ran. He's done similar killings in different areas of the U.S. since that time. He always uses a different alias and always chooses different types of victims. The M.O. on all the killings is the only thing that stays the same. I almost feel like this time he's baiting me."

"I'll let Jeff know about this. He can probably get you a lot of information."

Marcus nodded abruptly. "Good, and Rick, if it is Edward, he's mine. I should have taken care of this almost a hundred years ago. I'm taking care of it now."

"Okay, I'll make sure any information I get, gets into your hands too. If this guy is as bad as you say he is, he needs to be stopped, and it sounds like fast."

"Thank you, Rick. You are a good man." With that, Marcus turned and left the shop.

Rick stood in the lobby for a minute, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He hit the speed dial and waited patiently until Jeff picked up.

"What's up, boss?"

"I need you down here now. It looks like we've got a situation with these killings, and you are going to need to get on it right away."

"So studying for my GREs is out, right?" Jeff asked snidely.

"Yes. Marcus dropped by," Rick said, curtly.

"Oh, it's _that_ serious. I'll be down in no time at all," Jeff said, his tone changing to determined.

"Make sure you bring the pictures that you got last night. I don't want to think I bailed you out of jail for nothing."


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 20

Rick was staring at the open chronicle in front of him. "This is insane. Why has no one taken this guy's head yet?"

"Probably because no one could catch him, and because he was a good actor," Jeff replied grimly.

"Yeah, but you'd think after he killed one of his own Watchers that they'd do something about it."

Jeff shook his head emphatically. "You seem to forget that Watchers working with select Immortals is a brand new tradition. The Immortal didn't know that we existed, ergo he wasn't a threat to our organization."

"But Jeff, this is wrong. This guy still has someone who follows him around and just watches while he hacks people to pieces."

"It wouldn't have done any good to turn him in. In fact, it probably would have been worse to do so. The only thing that can stop this guy is another Immortal. Thankfully, now that the Watchers have pulled their heads out of the sand and realized that we need to be at least somewhat involved, he's going to be stopped. I'd just feel a lot better if it was you who was going after him."

Rick nodded. "So would I, but Marcus has a history with this dude, and you don't mess with that. If he fails, then I'll take care of it. I still can't believe Amanda knew this guy and didn't kill him."

Jeff was in full Servant mode, responding with a wisdom he usually suppressed. "Amanda met him during one of his off seasons. That's one of the reasons that he never gets caught. He fools people into thinking he's a good guy in one area, and kills in another. He's smart, this scumbag."

Rick looked at him. "Are you going to get his Watcher's info and call him?"

"I already have it. I'll call him tonight and get the information to you tomorrow," Jeff said.

"Good, so I'll call Marcus in the morning. It looks like your all-night adventure was a waste of time."

Jeff grinned. "Not really. Turns out I got some good shots of an armed robbery deal. I'm taking them to Marty at the station today, and then to my friends at the paper. I might have a story on the front page tomorrow. That means a nice big pay check to replace the cash I'm missing from Mrs. Chase. How did that turn out by the way?"

Rick just shook his head, "Don't ask and congrats on your find, man. Nothing like taking the opportunity in front of you."

Amanda's flight from New York to Florida was a lot smoother than her flight had been from Paris. She hated overseas flights. There was always too much turbulence to eat anything. And on a twenty-two-hour flight, all you really wanted to do was eat something. Then there was the food. Even in first class, it really was not that good. So, even if you did eat, well, you would end up regretting it twenty-four hours later. By the time Amanda landed in Florida, she was ready for a long nap in a comfortable bed.

When she left the terminal and went outside, she was not surprised to see someone waiting to pick her up. What she was surprised about was that the young stranger held a sign that read: The Amazing Amanda, in bold black letters. She laughed as she veered towards him. He looked to be in his early twenties, with pretty green eyes and a knock-out smile. He kept that smile as she came towards him.

"Donovin wasn't kidding when he said you were beautiful, but his description didn't do you justice," he said warmly, then held out his hand and she took it.

She laughed and then smiled. "You _must_ be Jeff."

"At your service," he said with a bow. "Consider me your chauffer for this fun-filled trip to Florida. Your wish is my command, my lady." He straightened back up, a silly grin on his face.

"Well, right now I just want to get myself to a nice warm bath and a nap," Amanda replied, gauging his reactions.

He was a little more serious this time. "Off to Emmy's apartment, then. I have been supplied with a key, which I am to leave in your care. May I take your baggage?" He held his hands out for her luggage and put the bulk of it on a baggage cart.

"You enjoy pretending to be the gallant knight, don't you?" Amanda asked, as they strolled the short distance to the parking garage and his car.

Jeff shrugged. "I tend to do what the job calls for."

"Really? And what does that generally entail?"

He smiled. "I'm an investigative reporter. Sometimes it requires sporting pantyhose and makeup."

"You'd look good in makeup."

He laughed, "I can pull off a good Goth when the job requires it." He motioned towards a car. "This is it."

Amanda admired the 2010 Toyota Camry. "Nice car for a reporter."

"Rick bought it for me as a gift. He couldn't stand the hunk of junk I was driving before. He's like that. He gifts people with the strangest stuff." Jeff opened the trunk and put Amanda's luggage in. Then he walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for her. "Have a seat in your chariot, and I shall endeavor to make this an enjoyable ride."

She rolled her eyes and got in the car. Once Jeff was inside and had started the engine, she began a new line of questioning. "So, this Rick character, what's he like?"

Jeff flashed her a bright grin. "Rick is great. He's funny, fun, imaginative. He's forgiving, a great boss, and good with all kinds of stuff. I think he's the greatest friend I've ever had. He really listens."

"And you're his Watcher right?" she asked.

"Yeah, I have been for the last four years. Rick is the second Immortal I've watched. The first was a guy named Tomas Sanchez. He was whacked while vacationing home in Puerto Rico. To tell the truth, though, I wasn't too sad about it when the guy got killed. He was a jerk and a half. Not bad, exactly, he just wasn't the kind of guy you want to watch day and night."

"How old are you then, since you've been a Watcher for at least five years?" Amanda had thought him to be no more than twenty-three, but he had to be older than that.

"I'm twenty-four. I've actually been a Watcher since I was sixteen. You could say I spent a great deal of time on the streets and saw something I really shouldn't have seen. One of the Watchers took me in." Though he was paying attention to his driving, he flicked his gaze her way, serious now. "Going into the Watchers saved me from dropping out of high school, becoming a total punk, and ruining my life. I think that's why they let me into the academy so early. It made me have to work, and learning to work helped me with school."

"Wait, there's an academy?" Amanda asked in surprise.

He nodded. "Yeah. I guess I assumed you knew that, since you've known Joe since the nineties. It's usually a four-year course, like college. I've always been super smart and I was able to complete it in the two years I was finishing high school. They put me on assignment six months after that. Having been a punk kid with a minor juvie record, I was good at following people. Sometimes you watch the same person your whole life. Sometimes nine months later, someone takes their head."

"Don't you ever feel stalkerish, following someone around all the time and writing down whatever they do in a book?"

He smiled ruefully. "Not anymore. I don't follow either Emmy or Rick. If anything interesting happens, they usually tell me. We don't seem to think what an Immortal ate for breakfast every day is really that important anymore. Sometimes my entries are literally two or three sentences. 'Rick worked at the repair shop all day. No interesting visits, no investigative work.'"

"And it doesn't bother you that you write about your friend like that?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't bother Rick, so it doesn't bother me. Why should it? All I'm doing is keeping a history for him. If he wanted to see it, I'd give him the whole chronicle and let him read it himself."

Amanda nodded. She had always thought that the Watchers were a rare breed of people, and now she was sure of it. Jeff, she had to admit, was a natural charmer. He just had a simple charisma that you were really attracted to. She let a note of mischief lighten her tone. "Tell me, who's the lucky girl in your life?"

He laughed. "There's not one. I'm too much of a child to attract anyone long term. I'm the brother type, you know. 'I really love you a lot Jeff, you're just like a brother to me.' Like that." There was a trace of anger in his voice.

Amanda deliberately ignored it and snickered. "Somehow I doubt that _all_ girls think about you that way."

He sighed. "Yeah, well if they don't, then I'm missing the cues because I don't have one. Anyway, if I did, it would just complicate my life further. I'm just living vicariously through other people right now, and that's a lot better than living with disappointment. Besides I'm not ready for a relationship, and until I get to a point where I am, I'm not going to have one."

"There's got to be someone you like."

The anger bubbled to the surface, his fingers clenching slightly on the wheel. "Sure. She's dating a stupid boy who doesn't appreciate her at all, but buys her crap that would take me a year's worth of bonus checks to afford. Until she decides she wants an actual relationship and not just presents; she's never going to see me as more than a friend. By the time she does, I might have found someone I like more who is free and available for me." He took a deep breath and puffed it out.

"You are good at making conversation, though," Amanda said cheerfully.

"Well, I'm good at talking openly about myself. So, now you should tell me about you," Jeff said.

"Come on, you can't tell me you haven't read my chronicle," she teased him.

"I haven't. I've read the blurb about your life, but that really doesn't tell me what you are up to right now," he said, taking a moment to turn his head and ply her with a hundred-watt smile.

"Right now, I'm actually an agent for three supermodels working in Europe," Amanda told him. She wondered if he thought his charm had worked. "I have three more that want to be added to my clientele, but dealing with one was bad enough; dealing with three is a headache. Six... I actually had one ask why she wasn't invited to come with me, so she could get some beach shots for her folio."

Jeff laughed. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her she was a runway model and didn't need beach shots in Florida for her folio. She needed to spend more time on toning her legs so that her ankles would look better." Amanda was looking at her cuticles as she talked. They looked a little ragged. She should get a manicure soon.

"Wow, how did she take that?" Jeff asked.

Amanda rolled her eyes. "I'm the boss, Jeff. I don't work for them. They work for me. All of them know there are a million girls who want their jobs and a million others who have agents trying to get it for them. What I say goes. It's the only way I can stand this job at all."

"So why do you do it?" Jeff asked, genuinely curious.

"Because it pays really, really well, and I get free clothes, makeup, and beauty supplies from it," Amanda said with a mischievous grin. Then she added, "And because it's something I can do and not be a thief, and Duncan likes that."

"Hey look, we're here," Jeff said, smiling as he pulled into the driveway of a beautiful white house. It was three stories, not unusual in Florida because they could not have basements. It looked rather extravagant, however, for single person residence.

"That is one big house," Amanda commented admiringly.

"Tell me about it," Jeff responded. "The first time Emmy brought me here, I asked her if I could just move into the top floor so I could stop paying rent on my apartment. She told me I'd still have to pay rent, it would just be to her instead."

Amanda laughed. "Sounds like Emmy."

He parked the car and popped the trunk, then got out and opened Amanda's door for her. He grinned as he played the gentleman, holding out his hand for her to grasp as she got smoothly out of the car. Releasing her hand, he offered her a key. "I'm going to get the luggage. Here's the key if you'd like to open the door."

She smiled and took the key, walking up to the door. He managed to gather up all of the luggage and trailed after her. She had mercy and took a couple of the smaller cases from him. "So, are you leaving me here?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I'm supposed to show you to your room and around the house. Also I have instructions to give you my number." After a little juggling of the luggage, he handed her his business card. "Emmy will also be off in about an hour and a half, but if you need anything before that, call me, okay? So, I'll give you the grand tour of the house, shall I?"

Amanda nodded. "That sounds good to me."

He took her first to her room, so they could drop off her luggage, and then they began exploring the house.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 21

Rick picked up the extension of his office phone in the garage. "Rick's Repair, how can I help you?"

"I've just taken Amanda to her room and given her the grand tour of Emmy's house. We are all supposed to meet at Nino's at six o'clock for dinner tonight. Do you think you can get off early enough to make it on time?"

"I hope so, but I haven't heard from Marcus all day, and I've left two messages on his phone. I'm hoping nothing's wrong," Rick said, frowning a little. It bothered him.

Jeff's answer was both soothing and chiding. "Rick, the guy's a lawyer. Usually when you can't reach them during the day, it means they're in court. He might be one of those who doesn't look at his cell phone until he's out."

"Fine, so maybe I'm overreacting. Either way, will you just check with his Watcher and make sure he hasn't gone missing on us? I don't need to deal with this serial killer Immortal on top of everything else," Rick replied, an anxious hitch to his voice.

"Yeah, sure," Jeff said. "Just be at Nino's on time. Oh, and Rick, dress up will you?"

"You are really pushing things, Read," Rick growled.

Jeff laughed, as he always did when Rick called him by his last name. It was never serious. "Sure boss, whatever you say."

The phone rang several times before someone picked up. "Hello?" came Matt Sales' familiar voice.

"Matt, what's happening?" Jeff asked cheerfully. He liked to talk to Matt like that because he was an old gentleman—older than Rick by several years—who hated the irreverent way people used English these days.

"Ah, Jeff. I should have known. Is Rick trying to get hold of Marcus?" Matt asked jovially.

"Yeah. I take it from your voice that your guy is fine?" Jeff replied more seriously.

"Perfectly well thank you," Matt said. "But he did forget his cell phone on his desk this morning, I believe. He's been miserable without it all day. He likes to check his messages during a recess."

"I figured as much. Thanks, man. I'll pass the information along to Rick. Then he can stop worrying about it and just do his job."

"Jeff, you will be at poker night this week won't you?" Matt asked.

"I don't know," said Jeff unhappily. "I've been studying to take the GRE and, well, the test is Friday morning, I might be totally fried by seven."

"Come on, you have to come. You know that we are all waiting for the next installment of this whole love affair between Rick and Emmy; especially now that Amanda's coming to visit! Look, how about I just remind you about it on Friday in the afternoon. You can take a nap between the test and the game."

Jeff sighed. "Fine, fine, I should have known better than to gossip with you guys. It's just too interesting. Why haven't you become one of the Servants, Matt? Marcus seems a good enough guy."  
"It's because I'm an old dog, Jeff. I don't think I could handle what you do. Watching is one thing. Knowing that you could potentially be a target is an entirely different thing. Our job is dangerous enough as it is. Oh, they're calling a recess, I've got to go."

"Okay, see ya man." Jeff replied and hung up. He immediately dialed Rick' shop.

It was Mike who picked up the phone. "Rick's Repair, how can I help you?"

"Hey Mike, Rick in still, or has he left already?" Jeff asked.

"Are you kidding? Rick leave before five? That'd be unheard of. He's just writing up some bills in the lobby. You want me to get him?"

"Sure man, that would be awesome," Jeff said.

"Okay," Mike said, and put the phone on hold.

A few seconds later, Rick came on. "Haven't you called once already? What's up now?" he asked, sounding slightly annoyed, but Jeff was sure that had more to do with work than it did with himself.

"Just calling to let you know our friend Marcus is just fine," Jeff told him. "He's been in court all day, and his Watcher thinks he left his cell phone at the office. So no worries, he should get your messages tonight sometime. Then you can see him and give him the information tomorrow or whenever."

"Hey thanks, man. That was a pretty speedy follow-up," Rick said, his tone warm with relief.

"No problem, boss. Look, I'm going to go because I want to take a shower before tonight, and you should get ready too. I don't want you trying to make some grand entrance by showing up late. Just be on time, please."

"Jeff."

"Yes?"

"Which one of us usually has the problem with being late, me or you?" Rick asked flatly.

"I'm just saying," Jeff said. Click. The phone went dead. Jeff sighed. Sometimes Rick could be really touchy. Then again, he was probably more nervous than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs*. Jeff shook his head. Yeah, he did not want to be Rick right now.

*I have to note that this sentence was wittily stolen from X-Men the cartoon series of the 1990s. I loved it. In the first episode Rogue tells someone, I can't remember who, he looks as nervous as long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 22

Emmy felt the buzz as she began to unlock the front door. She smiled. She was really excited to see Amanda. The last time they had been together was only for a few days, and that was before and after David's funeral. It had been several months since then. Taking care of an estate and all of the things required with someone's death was a time-consuming activity. Still, it did not hurt to be cautious.

"Amanda?" she called as she walked through the front door.

"Hey sweetheart, in here," came Amanda's voice from the kitchen.

Emmy walked into the kitchen and found Amanda standing at the stove stirring something in a pot. She shook her head and laughed. "What are you making? We're supposed to be going to dinner tonight."

Amanda flashed a smile at her over her shoulder. "I know. It's not dinner, it's dessert. I found all the supplies to make no-bake cookies in your cupboard, so I figured I'd entertain myself while I waited for you."

Emmy came up and sniffed the mix. "Well, it smells yummy, so it looks like your recipe was good this time."

"Hush, you make it sound like it's bad when I bake stuff," Amanda replied, trying to sound hurt but smirking all the same.

"Not often. Usually you bake and cook amazing food, but we both know that sometimes your creations are... a little off." Emmy shrugged. "It doesn't mean I love you any less. Besides, we both know that I can't cook any better."

Amanda sighed. "I suppose that both of us hit our peak with cooking. I think it's never going to be a skill I'm really amazing at."

"I think that both of us have taken more time to hone our thieving skills instead. Do you still break into places just to make sure you're not rusty?"

Amanda gave Emmy a disarmingly innocent stare. "What do you think?"

Emmy just smiled, shaking her head. "Yeah, I do too. So, how's Duncan?"

"He's a little miffed that he wasn't invited to this party. He thinks you're avoiding him."

Emmy rolled her eyes. "Of course he does. It's just, well, I can't talk to Duncan the way you can. He and I haven't had a good relationship since the thirties. I think it's because we're too much alike. Well, other than the whole thief-thing, anyway."

Amanda sighed. "I know that, you know that, and Duncan knows that. It's just he won't admit it. He likes to pretend that you two are still best friends."

"We are best friends. We're just on different paths right now," Emmy said, biting her lip. _My path involved David, and now there's Rick..._

Amanda turned off the stove and started adding vanilla, salt, peanut butter and oats to the mix. "Speaking of paths, tell me more about this guy Rick. He seems like a mystery to me. I mean, even Jeff wouldn't really say that much about him."

"Oh, Jeff," Emmy rolled her eyes dramatically. "Sometimes I think he tries too hard to make Rick sound mysterious. He's kind of an ordinary guy."

"How so?" Amanda asked, as she mixed the ingredients.

"He owns his own business, goes to work every day, and has nights free to do what he wants. He likes his solitude, and he tries to stay away from other Immortals."

"Other than our desire to kill each other, why is that such a big issue for him?" Amanda asked, studying Emmy.

"I think I'll let him explain that at dinner tonight. He's excited to see you now." Emmy grinned.

"Don't you mean meet me?" Amanda asked with raised eyebrows.

Emmy shook her head. "No, I mean see you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go take a shower and change into something formfitting. You should finish your cookies and do the same."

"That was the plan," Amanda replied. "All I have left is to set them in globs on the wax paper."

"Good, then I will see you in about an hour or so, looking like the two Immortal divas we are."

It was Amanda's turn to roll her eyes. "Sometimes I think you let the fact that you became Immortal at eighteen go to your head!"

"That's the pot calling the kettle black," Emmy shouted over her shoulder.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 23

Rick was actually the first one to arrive at the restaurant. He was so nervous about tonight that he was sure he would not make it through a salad, let alone a full meal. His stomach was churning. He really wondered if he should have had those two hot dogs at lunch. They did not feel like they were sitting well, now that he was waiting for the crew.

Jeff showed up next, actually looking mature in a brown suit with a red tie. The look worked for him, though he never liked to dress up if he could get away with it.

"You look sharp tonight," Rick told him, flicking that tie up. He spoke with more bravado than he really felt, under the circumstances.

"You clean up good yourself, grease monkey," Jeff replied, fingers automatically putting the tie back into order.

Rick shrugged. "I guess... where do you think they are?"

Jeff looked at him. "Really? I'm pretty sure they're both still doing their makeup in the bathrooms right now. It'll probably be another five minutes, at least. Girls always like to show up fashionably late."

Rick's eyes narrowed slightly, but he seemed to bite back a retort. His gaze flicked past Jeff. "Or right on time." Emmy's car was pulling into the parking lot entrance.

"Okay, so Immortals are different," Jeff said blithely.

Rick let it go, as he always did. Though he wondered, as he also always did, if he was doing his friend any favors by not telling him how that attitude kept the very type of women he preferred from taking him seriously.

They waited as the two women got out of Emmy's car, both looking over towards the entrance. Emmy smiled and waved, clearly excited. Amanda was as still as a statue. She just stared at Rick, her eyes huge. Emmy turned and saw her standing frozen, so she walked around the car, and grabbed Amanda's hand. Rick could see that Amanda's expression did not change as Emmy tugged her along, lips moving in constant chatter until they got close to the men.

"Richie?" Amanda asked thinly, her gaze intent. "Richie, is that really you?"

"Hi Amanda, how are you?" Rick asked, blinking against tears that suddenly threatened. He smiled and held out his hand.

Amanda did not take his hand; instead, she punched him in the jaw.

The action was so unexpected, Rick stumbled backwards and Jeff had to catch him, grinning broadly. "Ouch," Rick said, rubbing his jaw. He blinked at Amanda, the punch a good excuse for the tears that made it past his eyelashes.

"You've been alive all this time, and you never told us? How is this even possible? Joe told me Duncan killed you. That he saw him take your head." Though angry, she spoke quietly. No need for strangers to hear. She looked hurt and confused.

Rick could understand why. They had been friends. She had treated him almost like a little brother. He straightened up and shook his head as the pain of the punch faded. "I have a private table reserved in the back of the restaurant. Why don't we all head back there, and I'll try to explain things to your satisfaction."  
Amanda nodded and folded her arms, glaring darkly at both Emmy and Rick. "This had better be good."

Amanda and Emmy returned to the house around half past ten. Both women were exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster ride of the evening.

"I never thought anything like this could happen. Immortals can't fake their own beheadings, it's impossible." Amanda was still in shock.

"I know, but he's here. And Amanda, I'm so glad. He's everything I've ever wanted. Amanda, he's wonderful."

"He's different, Emmy. I remember what he used to be like, and the man he is now... is just that, a man," Amanda said, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't remember ever seeing him like this. It's like he's a completely different person. Still, I'm kind of sad that it's taken him so long to come out and tell us he's alive. All that wasted time." She closed her eyes for a moment, and Emmy could see that her lashes were damp.

She nodded and touched her friend's arm gently. "But come on, Amanda. I mean, Duncan did put him through a lot. You know he did. He never thought that he'd let his old life affect his present one. He was never going to let anyone know Richie was alive. This has been a real breakthrough for him. The thing I'm worried about is Duncan's reaction. That's why we decided to tell you first."

For a moment Amanda stared at her, expression opaque. "You know Em, this is one of those times when I have no idea at all how Duncan will react. I mean, he could be so happy that he hugs Richie on the spot. Then again, who knows? He could be so hurt by this, that he never speaks to him again." Amanda shrugged her shoulders. "All I can say is that I hope that Mac doesn't... isn't furious. And I don't think he will be. It almost killed him, when he thought he'd killed Richie. At least now, though, he won't blame himself for that anymore. Just for him hiding himself away all these years."

"I agree, so what's the plan?" Emmy asked.

"Plan?" Amanda had crossed her arms, but threw them open wide and started pacing. "Oh no, I am not being the go-between in this thing. If Richie wants to talk to Duncan, he's going to have to do it himself." She re-crossed her arms and gave Emmy her best, 'that's final' glare.

"Oh come on, Amanda, you have to help us. We'll be lost without you." In return, Emmy gave Amanda her best puppy dog look.

Amanda returned that with a troubled frown. "How about we both head to bed and just discuss this in the morning with the boys?"

Emmy nodded, "Okay, I can go with that. Besides, I bet you need the sleep. Jet lag can be a killer."

"Yes it can. Oh, and don't think that just because I now know why you dragged me down here, it means you're getting out of going to the beach with me. I brought a bikini and I'm using it." With that, Amanda headed to her room for bed. It had been a long couple of days.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 24

Rick was actually in his office, filing away the last of his reports on the Chase case, when he felt an Immortal buzz. He looked up to see Marcus standing in the shop entranceway. He reached over and grabbed the other file sitting on his desk, the one he had brought for Marcus. With it in hand, he got up and headed out into the lobby. "When you didn't return my calls yesterday, I was worried something had happened to you."

Marcus shook his head. "Nothing's happened to me, but that parasite has killed another victim. It was all over the news last night when I got out of court. I'm sorry for not calling you after I got out, but I was... upset."

Rick nodded. He understood Marcus' rage. He had seen it before in other older Immortals who felt that they needed to change the world, or at least to stop others who had plans to try and do so themselves. He felt his cheek twitch and fought the nervousness down. "It's not a problem, I've had those days myself." He smiled and held out the file. "You'll want this. I told you my guy is good. He's strung together all the information about this guy you could possibly want. It even has a current address."

Marcus took the folder, turning the pages without even looking at them, a distant expression on his face. "I always thought it was smart of you to befriend a reporter and tell him what you were. They love sharing secrets with the world, but sometimes I think they like having their own even better."

Rick smiled, again suppressing the tick in his cheek. "Oh yeah. In Jeff's case, that's definitely true. It's like his joke on the business. I share all this information with you, and yet I know ten times more about the world than you will ever be able to comprehend."

Marcus dropped his gaze to the papers in the file, not moving but for turning the pages. He stopped at the one he wanted and looked back up at Rick. "And he's sure this is a current address for him?"

Rick nodded. "Jeff never does anything halfway. He's positive. It was his residence yesterday. It should still be the same one today. Look, Marcus, I know we're not close, but this guy is trouble. I want you to know I think you're a great guy. Good luck and, as they say in Spanish, vaya con Dios."

Marcus gave a slow blink, then reached out his hand and shook Rick's. "I am thankful for your blessing Rick. Don't lose your head." With that, the older Immortal turned and headed out the door. Rick stood silently watching after him and wondered, as he always did when a battle was about to begin, if he would ever see the other man again.

Jeff's dreams were filled with spinning numbers when the phone rang, waking him up much later in the day than he was used to. He picked it up and pushed the button. "Hello?" he asked groggily.

"Hey Jeff, it's Matt. I didn't wake you up this late in the day did I?" Matt asked, sounding slightly smug.

Jeff sighed as he sat up and realized he was still at his desk, study books in front of him. "Yeah, but it's okay, I apparently fell asleep studying last night. I got in late, so I had to make sure I'd done some prep before going to bed."

Matt laughed quietly on the other side of the phone. "That explains why you're still asleep. Jeff, don't you think you might be over-preparing for this test?"

Jeff sighed. "I would if I'd ever done well at any standardized test in my life, but as I haven't, no. I think this is a good idea."

Matt only grunted this time. "Well, that's not exactly why I'm calling."

"I figured you had a different motive. What's up?"

"I just wanted you to know that Marcus is going after Edward."

"You sound okay with that... are you?" Jeff knew that even some of those who only watched grew to really love their Immortals.

"Yeah, I'm pretty confident that Marcus is better. Just because he's a lawyer doesn't mean he doesn't keep in shape."

"True," Jeff replied, getting up from the chair and walking around the room, stretching his sore body. "Well, I wish both of you luck. I hope it turns out to our advantage."

"As do I." The phone went dead. Sometimes Matt had the weirdest way of saying goodbye.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 25

Rick had felt ill at ease all afternoon. He had the feeling that he was being watched. After a couple hours of this, he let Mike and Manuel that know he was heading out. He went to his office and retrieved his jacket and sword, though it was much too hot for the former item. He was on his bike and heading to Ft. Myers Memorial Gardens in no time at all. The Gardens, or Cemetery, was only five minutes from his shop on McGregor Street. He often went there when he needed a moment of peace. Cemeteries seemed an easier place for him to visit for peace than churches did in Florida. He was, after all, in the heart of the Bible belt. He stopped right on the edge, parked his bike, and went inside the grounds. He walked around, looking at the many statues that lined the streets of this beautiful resting place for those who had served their country, and those who loved them.

He scanned the outer rim, looking for a car, a truck, or any other vehicle that might indicate someone had followed him. He was not disappointed. A man began to walk towards him, and soon he felt the familiar buzz of another Immortal.

The man continued to approach until he was only a few feet away. He carried his coat slung over his arms. He looked hot, and a bit irritated with the heat. He spoke, however, with the manner of one who tries hard to disguise his discomfort.

"Wonderful thing, Holy Ground. It gives us a chance to talk without needing to take each other's heads."

"What do you want?" Rick asked, glaring at him.

"Me? Oh nothing much. I just want to know why you were talking with Marcus this morning."

Rick raised his eyebrows with haughty disdain. "You're not Edward?"

"Edward? Who is that?" the other man asked.

"The homicidal maniac who's been killing mortals around town."

"Ah, so it is an Immortal doing those killings. Terrible waste of life."

"I haven't seen you around here before," Rick said, eyes narrowing.

"No, you wouldn't. I move around a lot, and there's no way I'd stay in this unbearable heat. No, I'm here simply visiting."

"You plan on trying for Marcus' head?" Rick asked, crossing his arms in front of him.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. What business is it of yours?"

"This is, as we say, my turf. I've sort of gained control of it. Sort of like an Immortal kingpin. I like to know what's happening in my area. And I want to know why you were following me, if your business is with Marcus."

For just an instant, the other man's eyes widened, then he slipped coolness on like a cloak and sighed. "I wasn't exactly following you. I lost Marcus' trail at your store and figured, well, you'd lead me to him. Instead you brought me here."

"Sorry. I'm not Marcus' puppy. I don't go looking for him anytime I'm in danger. So if you want to find Marcus, you do it on your own. Or we can step off Holy Ground, and I can end your search."

"Tsk, tsk, Mr. Cloud, I'm not here to take your head. Do not tempt me. If you do happen to run into Marcus, tell him Damien says hello," and he began to walk back toward the parking area.

"Damien," Rick called after him. The other man turned back around to look at him. "If I hear anything about you killing anyone in this area, you won't be finding Marcus. I'll just be finding you."

Damien simply smiled, nodded in acknowledgement, and continued on his way. "When did this city suddenly become the stomping ground of headhunting Immortals?" Rick asked the air in front of him. He had not had this much trouble with them since his first year or so of living here, and now they were crawling out of the woodwork like flies.


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 26

Jeff's phone rang at half past three, and he was pretty sure he knew who it was. He looked at the ID anyway. Yup, it was Rick. "Sorry man, I'm caught up at the paper. They're actually having me write about the drug deals. It's almost done. I'll be down in like twenty minutes."

"That's not exactly why I called. I'm actually not at work," Rick said wryly.

All of Jeff's instincts sprang to life and his hand convulsed on his phone. "Where are you?" he asked, worried. Rick hardly ever left work early, which could mean that something bad had happened this afternoon.

"I'm at the Memorial Gardens."

A place he only went when he was troubled. "Crap. What happened?"

"I just spent the day being watched by another Immortal who's after our friend Marcus."

"Jeez, this man has more enemies than Duncan and Connor combined. Are you okay?" An exaggeration, to be sure, but these were the emotions of the moment.

"Fine, but I'm not very happy. The guy left his name. I'd like you to look through the Chronicles and find every Damien that pops up. I want to find out who this guy is; and then I want to nail him to a tree."

"Whoa, what'd this guy say to you?" Jeff asked. He had never heard Rick talk like a headhunter. He had told Jeff a long time ago that he took yoga and meditation while in college in order to help him control his anger. It helped, also that girls thought you were cool if you did stuff like that.

"It's what he didn't do," Rick replied unhappily, and hung up the phone.

Jeff set down his phone and began typing furiously. He wanted to get this sorted out before bed tonight, and if he was going to do that, he had to get down to Miami. He hated it when Immortals only left their first names. It made things difficult. Instead of being able to access the local hard drive, he would have to drive an hour and a half to base and look manually through every Immortal whose name had ever been or was currently Damien. The worst part was that there could be over a hundred, and he would have to get pictures and information for every single one. His article was finished, so he slapped it onto the editor's desk and headed out the door. This was going to be one long evening, and that would not even include the time he would have to spend studying for the GRE.

"Ah, Mister Read, you haven't been around for a while? How are things?"

Jeff did not have to turn around from the computer he was working at to know who was standing behind him. It was Daniel Goodman, head of the Florida division of the Watchers. Every state had its own head, and he could not stand Daniel. The jerk was one of the Watchers who had fought tooth and nail to keep the Servants from becoming a division back in 2002. The two of them would probably never stop despising each other.

"Well enough, Daniel. I'm surprised to see you here. Aren't you usually up at the Orlando offices?" He turned to face the other man, a fake smile stuck in place.

"Yes, but I have to drop by here once in a while. I usually come by about every other Tuesday. Looks like you just showed up on the right day." Jeff knew Daniel's smile was just as false as his own. The older man nodded his head towards the computer. "Now, is there anything I can help you find?"

Jeff wanted to roll his eyes, but kept from doing so. This was Daniel's way of interfering with his work. "Not unless you can tell me offhand which Immortal who goes by, or has gone by, Damien, wants to kill Marcus Maxwell."

"I thought you were watching Rick Cloud. Has that changed?" Daniel asked with genuine surprise.

Jeff sighed. He did not want to explain this to a pencil pusher who had only spent enough time in the field to know that it sometimes got your suit dirty. "It's complicated. Rick wants to take this guy out."

"Why?"

"He's been following him all day. They spoke at a cemetery this morning and he pushed the wrong buttons. And believe me, Dan, those buttons are hard to push with my Immortal."

Daniel nodded, seeming to have forgotten their differences in talking shop about Immortals. "Yes, I know. It's the only good thing about your assignment. The two of you aren't running around like Duncan MacLeod, trying to save the world from evil Immortals. Still, why would this Damien follow Cloud, if he is after Marcus?"

Jeff smiled wryly. "Because he made the same mistake that so many Immortals do when facing Rick. They think he's just a baby Immortal and he's going to run home to daddy."

"Out of curiosity, have you ever learned who trained Cloud? It would be an interesting thing to add to his history." His expression was one of pure Watcher curiosity.

Jeff shook his head. "Sorry, Danny." He bit the inside of his cheeks to stop a smile forming at the other man's wince. "He's still completely tightlipped about anything in his past before he moved to New York and went to school. I still can't even confirm half of the Immortals we think he killed in South America, let alone anything before that." He turned back to the computer. "If you don't mind, I'd really like to finish my search. I have to get home and study for the GREs."

There was a moment of silence as Daniel digested what he had heard. Then he said, somewhat snidely, "Well, Mister Read, I must say I'm impressed. I never thought of you as someone who would take advanced schooling. Well done, we might make a good Watcher out of you yet. Good luck with your search." Daniel slapped Jeff on the back in a less than friendly manner, and left the room.

Once he was gone, Jeff returned to the hunt. Surprisingly, over the known history of Immortals accessible here, there were only twenty-five who had ever used the name Damien. Ten of those were dead, which left another fifteen to sift through before he would head home. One was a scientist living in Antarctica. Jeff found this rather amusing; there really was no better place to hide on Earth from other Immortals. They were likely to find you on Holy Ground and taunt you, even if they could not kill you there. They were unlikely to take a summer trip to Antarctica to find out if anyone was hiding there.

Two of them were in Asia right now. They seemed unlikely suspects. One was in South Africa fulfilling a spiritual mission. One lived in Northern Canada and had been there for fifty years. So that left about ten who could potentially have left where they were last noted, and come to Florida in the last few days.

None of their Watchers had reported that their Immortals were on the move, but sometimes it took several months for these things to show up in the actual chronicles. They were kept on the Watcher's own personal hard copy file, so that the main chronicles could be updated later. Jeff sighed. It was better than a hundred. Better even than the twenty-five he had started from. He copied down the names so that he could pull up the files again when he was at Rick's the next day, and got up. It had been a long night already and he still had to drive home. His stomach growled and he laughed at himself. He would have to eat something, too.


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 27

Jeff looked at his phone and was surprised to see Emmy's number on the caller ID. She had called less since finding out he was a Watcher. He could not blame her. It was a hard thing to take in; to find out that someone you thought was your friend was actually part of a group that had been secretly stalking you for centuries.

"Well hello, gorgeous! What a nice surprise to see your number on my caller ID," Jeff said sweetly into the phone. He knew flattery never hurt when dealing with girls.

Emmy laughed unenthusiastically into the phone. "What are you up to right now?"

He flinched a little at her tone. "About to get into my car and drive home from Miami, why? Did you need something?" It was hard, but he stopped himself from babbling on.

"No, I wanted you to come with us to dinner. Wait, what are you doing in Miami?"

Jeff sighed. "Rick needed me to check some stuff out. It's kind of tough to do some of the research on Immortals away from the actual Watcher centers. I had to come down here to do a thorough search of the archival content."

Emmy hummed into the phone. "So that means you won't be home until nine or ten, huh?"

"Yeah, around then. Sorry, no dinner date with the two most beautiful Immortals in the world! Oh, and Rick, of course."

Emmy laughed warmly this time. "Always the joker. Do you take anything seriously?"

"Not unless I have to," he replied. "Now Em, as much I would love to just sit here and listen to your lovely voice, I need to get home. And I refuse to drive and talk on the phone at the same time. I'm spacey enough as it is."

"Alright Jeff, have a safe trip home. We'll miss you tonight."

"Oh, I'm counting on it. Next time you decide to throw a dinner date, you'll absolutely have to have me there for it. Night, Em. Talk to you later."

"Bye."

Jeff ended the call and started his car. It really was time to get home.

Rick was more nervous about dinner this evening than he had been about seeing Amanda again the night before. This time, there was no Jeff in his corner to back him up. He had not realized until now how vital to his life their friendship had become. All this time he had thought that by cutting himself off he would be safe from being hurt again when, instead, he had just made himself dependent on one person instead of several. He sighed heavily and walked into the restaurant. He had no idea how he was going to converse with Amanda and Emerald by himself. Those two were each forces of nature alone; together they seemed to be an unstoppable hurricane destroying everything in its path.

He smiled as he saw them waiting in Nino's small foyer. "Hello ladies! Sorry I'm late."

"No you're not," Emmy replied with a warm smile, "you were steeling yourself for this evening, knowing you wouldn't have Jeff for support."

Rick laughed. "Yes, well. Considering my company, two very beautiful, very cunning women, can you blame me for being a little nervous?"

Amanda stood up and hugged him. "No, we can't. That's why we're not bothered you're late. Now, the very nice hostess has been holding a table for us, so why don't we go sit down." With that, she began to drag Rick into the dining room. Emmy flanked him. Their table was just on the other side of the wall that blocked the inside of the building from sight of the entryway. Rick let himself be pulled along. After all, it was never a good idea to fight Mother Nature.

As they sat down for dinner, Amanda began to speak. "So I've been thinking about this all day, and I really think that the best approach is the direct approach."

"What do you mean?" Rick asked, picking up his menu and considering the contents. He had been to Nino's a number of times, and their food was so good that he had taken to trying something new each time he ate here.

"I mean, just go up to him and say 'Hi I'm alive.'"

"You don't think he'll try killing me?" Rick asked her. There was a hollow look in his eyes.

Amanda met his gaze with a greater steadiness than he could remember her having. "Richie, Duncan's been walking around with the weight of your death for almost fifteen years now. I don't think he's going to want to double that. I think he'll be so happy you're alive that he'll forgive you. I mean, he knows better than anyone what he put you through."

Rick nodded and said quietly, "I guess so. It's just that it's so complicated."

Amanda nodded back. "I understand that."

He focused his gaze on the menu, but could not prevent the slight quaver in his voice as he spoke. "I don't think you do, Amanda. You see, something Joe and I never told anyone is that... the guy Mac killed, he really did look like me when Mac killed him, and even after he killed him. Joe told me afterwards that he never could find out who the poor stiff really was."

Emmy was staring at him. "You mean to say you watched Duncan actually take your head? Er, so to speak."

Rick met their stares briefly and nodded, "Yup. It was the weirdest experience of my life."

Amanda just sat there for a moment. "Duncan never really talks about that part of his life. He kind of shut me out during it."

Rick looked at her and asked, "Can you blame him?"

She shook her head. "No, but it still hurts."

"Yeah, but you're probably better off not knowing."

"So," Emmy interjected softly, "what do you think, Rick? You want to head to Paris?"

"I'd love to, but I can't."

"Don't tell me you're stuck taking care of that bike shop and can't leave it," Amanda said, rolling her eyes.

"No, it's not the shop. I trust Mike and Manuel to run it just fine. Actually, there are a couple of unwanted Immortals in town, and I want to make sure they're gone, one way or another, before I take a leave of absence."

"A couple, now?" Emmy asked with some interest. "There was only the question of one, last I heard."

Rick held out his left hand, palm up. "One is our mystery serial killer the cops are trying to catch. We got a tip on who he was and found out a lot about him."

"And the other?"

"A guy calls himself Damien, with a grudge against Marcus. He's still a mystery that Jeff's trying to solve tonight. That's why he went to Miami today, to check old records."

"So what's your plan? Take them both and leave town for a while?" Amanda asked, yawning sleepily. "Excuse me, I think my jet lag hasn't entirely left yet."

"No problem, Amanda. Actually, the plan is to just make sure my friend Marcus, who lives nearby and seems to have a beef with both, doesn't lose his head. And if he does, to kill the other one or two jokers myself."

"Good. Well then, while you're doing that, Emmy and I will work on our tans," Amanda said cheerfully. "Oh, look, the food is here."

Emmy looked both amused and exasperated. She rolled her eyes at Amanda and gave Rick a half-hearted glare. He shrugged his shoulders helplessly back at her.


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 28

Jeff entered his apartment at 9:46. He looked at the clock and then sighed. Tonight he was cheating. There was no way he was going to study for the GRE. He was taking a long, hot shower, and going to bed. No more thinking tonight, just a comfortable bed and some good sleep. He had slept at his desk last night. He was not doing it again tonight. He was just taking off his shirt when his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID, it was Rick. Answering, he asked "What?" with exasperation.

"Hi, good to hear from you too," Rick began.

Jeff cut him off. "Dude, I'm not up for it. I just drove an hour and a half to and from Miami, had to talk with Daniel Goodman, and search through twenty-five different Immortal files, and I've still only narrowed it down to ten for you. I couldn't get a cross reference with Marcus for any of them. Which could be 'cause of my access, or it could be because the chronicles aren't always kept well. Either way, I'm tired, I'm grumpy and I just want to get some sleep. Oh, and doing this has kept me away from one more day of studying for the GRE." Jeff did not usually vent. He felt that girls vented and guys dealt with stuff, but he was tired. More importantly, he was tired of Rick for the day.

"Okay, I get it. I'm just calling to find out if you have a current passport."

"It's a mandatory requirement for being a Watcher that you have a passport at all times, why?"

"Because once this whole mess with Marcus and the two mystery Immortals has been taken care of, we're heading to Paris."

"Great, just what I wanted to hear," Jeff replied and he hung up the phone.

He lay staring at the ceiling. He had woken up about an hour ago with no desire to get out of bed. Getting up meant he had to deal with Rick, and probably Emmy as well. It also meant having to explain about last night, and Jeff was not sure he wanted to talk about it yet. He was not sure what was going on himself, right now. Somewhere in the last four years, he had lost track of his life. He had become, in a sense, almost exactly like his Immortal. He had stopped worrying about time, about the future, and just started living. Now he thought maybe that was a mistake. Here he was, four years later. He had a bachelor's degree in communications, a minor in photography, and now his career seemed to be taking him places. Only he was not sure that was what he wanted to do. Why was he studying for the stupid GRE anyway? Ms. Green had picked him out, probably randomly from a hat, to be her successor, and now he was jumping fences? He looked at the clock; it read 6:00 AM. He yawned, stretched, and headed to the bathroom to jump into the shower. He was out and dressed ten minutes later. He grabbed his camera and car keys and headed out the door.

Three hours later, he was staring at a full memory card of pictures. He had forgotten how much he loved just taking pictures. It has always been his thing to just go out and take pictures. Some people got their stress out by writing journals, others listened to music, and Jeff took pictures. This is what he wanted to do. He wanted... no, he needed to change his lifestyle, and soon.

For the first couple of years of college, while he had been working with Rick, he had been a freelance photographer for many of the papers in the area. He even sold a few of his shots to some papers in Miami. Then student loans had started to pile up and he needed a steady income, so he became a regular camera man and somewhat of a reporter for the local paper. It paid well. He kind of set his own schedule, and had a really steady income. It was only Rick's sudden desire to fly to Paris that had shaken him from his little hole in the ground. He had spent the last few years working a job. A job he could not stand sometimes, and that in his opinion did not pay enough. That was not what he wanted. He wanted a career. He wanted something he would enjoy doing every day. He knew the difference. A job was something you did to get paid. A career was something you did because you liked to do it.

It was time that he really did follow in the footsteps of his Immortal friend, and chased something he was passionate about. He looked over at his car, and suddenly flying to Paris did not seem like such a bad thing. He knew that he would be spending a lot of time in Paris taking pictures. It was time to re-center his life.

"Jeff," growled Editor-in-Chief Green, whom Jeff referred to, in his head and outside the office only, as the Dragon Lady. "Where have you been all day? Press wants a longer article about this arms deal. They want to fill a page with it."

Jeff shrugged his shoulders, "That's not my problem. The article's complete."

Her eyes narrowed. "The article is complete when I say it's complete."

Jeff crossed his arms and stared her down. "Only in your dreams. The only reason I'm here today is to tell you I quit."

"You can't quit, you're our best photographer." She looked positively shocked.

Jeff shrugged stubbornly, "Should have thought of that before you started trying to turn me into your newest reporter. I like to take pictures; I don't like to write about them." He started to head toward the exit, knowing it was for the last time, and turned as he was going out. "Have a nice day," he offered with a cheesy smile and breezed out of the door.


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 29

Rick was relieved when he saw Jeff walk into the garage actually smiling. This was a hopeful sign that he was out of whatever funk he had been in the day before, and really for the last week, as he had been studying for the GRE. "You look like you're feeling better today."

Jeff nodded, a wide smile on his face. "I've decided not to take the GRE."

"Wow, why? You've been studying like a madman for days," Rick said, surprised by this turn of events.

"Because I quit the paper this morning," Jeff told him, hands in his pockets, looking like the Cheshire cat.

"You what?" Rick blinked and shook his head a little.

The grin slid off of Jeff's face and he looked completely sober. "I quit the paper. I figured it was time. I've made plenty from working as a detective with you this whole time, and well, I just put some of my work into a photography contest. I'm going to try and just become a photographer. I'm going to start out doing weddings and stuff like that, and just enjoy it. You know I get a kick out of it. No matter what type of pictures they are."

Rick was so stunned that he did not say anything for a minute. Then he asked seriously, "What brought this on?"

"A realization that I wasn't mad at you; I was tired of my job. I stopped enjoying it, and I realized I wasn't living up to my expectations anymore. I was living up to someone else's. You remember when I was just a freelance, selling my photos to whoever, and how much fun I had with that? Well, I want that fun again. The only time I ever seem to enjoy my job is when I've ended up getting a really good picture and I just have to share it. This also means I'm excited to go to Paris." Jeff was really animated now, showing the youthful vitality that attracted Rick to him. Jeff's emotions, whatever they were, were usually so strong as to be contagious.

Rick nodded, "You want to take some pictures of some of the famous sights, don't you?"

Jeff bobbed his head, "Yeah, and some of the not so famous sights. I just want to take pictures and see where it gets me. You know I can stop and snap off a hundred pictures in one sitting."

Rick could not contain his smile any longer. This was the Jeff he knew. No matter how bad things were, or why they were doing something, he always had to make it fun. And sometimes, that meant taking pictures. For example, during their first dinner while watching Mister Chase, he had snapped pictures under the tables of everyone's legs and shoes. He was that kind of crazy, and some of the pictures had actually been pretty cool. "So you're going for your dream, then?"

"Yup, I thought it was time I started making money doing something I love. You know, follow the footsteps of my best friend." He reached his arm out and shook Rick's shoulder.

"Yeah, my obsession seems to get the better of me, doesn't it?" Rick laughed.

"Yeah, but it's part of what makes you so special, and why everyone brings their bikes to you. Pulling a bike apart and putting it back together isn't just a job for you, it's an adventure. Sometimes, when you get a new make you've never had before, you get this giddy boyish grin on your face like you've just gone into the candy store."

"We all get those looks when we're doing something we love. You have the same after a good shoot."

"I do indeed." Jeff stretched raising his arms above his head and popped his shoulders. "Okay, enough about obsessions, it's time to talk Immortals."

"You got the information that I need?" Rick asked, excited.

Jeff shook his head, "Not all of it. I need your help figuring out which Damien it is from the list." He pulled out a flash drive and stuck it into the computer port. "There are ten plausible Immortals by the name of Damien, so I need you to do a mug shot test on them."

Rick snickered, "Okay, how hard can it be. I want to nail this guy to a plank, after all."  
Rick started going through the pictures, and stopped on the fourth one. "This is the guy. This is the one who was following me the other day."

"Damien Leadholm. He's from Australia originally, but hasn't been back since he died the first time. Was part of the first British colonization of Australia. He fought in WWI and II, and spent a lot of time touring the U.S. My best guess is that he was on opposite sides in the World War as Marcus."

"Marcus fought for the English in both, didn't he?"

"Yup," Jeff replied, "and Damien the Germans. It's weird though, because he was technically a British citizen."

"Yeah, but he could have hated his country. Perhaps Marcus got him put in jail for a while, or something?" Rick questioned scrolling through the file.

Jeff took over using the mouse and began looking for something in Damien's more recent past that would clear up the mystery. He shook his head, "There just doesn't seem to be a connection between the two that I can see. Have you called Marcus and asked him about it?"

"Jeff, the man's in the middle of tracking a serial killer, you don't just interrupt that to tell him he has _another_ Immortal after him as well."

"I think it's better that he's prepared to meet with the possibility of two Immortals, than to let him walk unknowingly into this mess. What if Damien finds him?" Jeff frowned.

Rick shrugged, "Then the two will fight it out, and one will win. That's what happens."

Now Jeff looked at him solemnly. "And you're just going to let it happen that way?"

Rick would not meet his eyes. "It's not my job to babysit Marcus. Besides, if I get my way, this guy isn't going to be alive long enough to get anywhere near him."

"Okay, fine, I'll see if his location has been updated in his current chronicle. Why do you have to be so darn stubborn?"

"Because I was trained by Duncan MacLeod."


	30. Chapter 30

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 30

As Damien walked out of the bar, he felt the familiar buzz of an Immortal. He looked down the street, thinking he'd finally see Marcus waiting for him. Instead, he saw the same young Immortal he had followed from the bike shop. "You do turn up in odd places," he began, while walking towards the boy. His impression from earlier was unchanged. This one was not overly tall, with excellent conformation and a face that brought to mind the bust of young Hercules. All dark blond curls and angry blue eyes, he had met his first death as a young adult.

"Only when I'm trying to find someone," he replied.

"Then you've changed your mind and are going to tell me where Marcus is?" Damien asked, a smile growing across his face.

The young-seeming man shook his head. "No, see, I've never really been good about playing ball, and well, I hate it when people think I'm just a kid. So, I figured I'd do Marcus a favor. After all, he does have another Immortal in the city he's trying to take care of himself right now. He doesn't need two."

Damien laughed, "Come now, you don't mean to challenge me? You can't be more than a century old. Look, I don't care if you don't tell me where Marcus is, but don't insult me by making a challenge again, or I _will_ be forced to end your short life."

The young Immortal smiled, "You know, I've heard that one before, and I'm still here."

Damien shrugged, drawing his sword, "Suit yourself," he said and then he lunged forward to attack the younger man.

Rick parried that lunge with ease, and then the two really began to circle each other. As they did, they moved out of the street and into the shadows behind the bar. The cops would not bother with a part of town like this, as long as it was off the street. The fight really began. There were thrusts and parries, dodges and a few near misses, and that was when Damien began to find himself a little uncertain. "You're very good. Who trained you, may I ask?"

With a dark smile the other man answered, "Duncan MacLeod. You might have heard of him."

A hiss escaped Damien's lips. Though he had never actually met MacLeod, he was well aware of the man's reputation as a keen and dangerous player in the Game. He had a reputation also for taking the heads of people he did not like. He was, by all accounts, a great friend, and an even greater enemy. "Well, no matter your heritage, you are not Duncan MacLeod."

"You're right, I'm not." With that, the boy seemed to fall to the ground, but it was a deliberate move enabling him to kick Damien's feet out from under him and jump back up to a standing position. The next flash of his leg knocked Damien's sword spinning away, and he followed it with a knee to the stomach. For a moment, their eyes met. "There can be only one."

Damien laughed as the sword came down, and was silenced when it sliced through his neck.

Rick was late opening his place the next morning. He had stayed up a little too late drinking, and even Immortals got hangovers at least for the first hour after waking, then everything went back to normal, and life went on as planned. It was not that he was late to work. The shop did not officially open until nine, and he had always been there around half past seven. It was just today that he arrived an hour later. He had slept in after his night of binging. This was in order to escape the migraine headache altogether.

It worked too. That was one thing that Rick really did love about being immortal. Consequences of stupidity did not last quite as long. Not that he often decided to get so drunk that he could not see straight. If you wanted to stay alive, you did not party through the night very often. It left you much too vulnerable to attack. He would get drunk when the occasion called for it, though. He did so every time he took a head. It was his way of toasting life, reminding himself that he was alive, and in his own way punishing himself for taking someone's life. Oh, he understood that killing other Immortals was part of surviving, but it did not make it any easier for him. He had learned long ago, as a young Immortal only a couple years into the game, that he was not by nature a killer. Not for revenge, and certainly not for glory. He did it because, sometimes, he felt it needed to be done. When it did not need to be done, well... Life was too important, and too short (even if you could live forever) to waste it chasing after every other Immortal that happened to walk down your street.

He had also decided, after everything that had happened with Mac, that it was also too short to trust it into the hands of any other Immortal, friend or not. Emmy had changed his attitude. She had reawakened the desire within him to interact with other Immortals. To see and to speak with those who shared the loneliness of watching everyone around you grow older as you stayed the same. In his case, an Immortal who would physically by nineteen forever. With some tips from Methos, he had learned disguise his physiological age. You came into an area presenting yourself as the youngest you could possibly pass, loose clothing and an ambling walk disguising both muscles and trained coordination, clean-shaven and an open expression disguising the weight of your thoughts. Over the years you kept an eye on clothing trends and stuck to the fashions popular in the age group you were pretending to be, shifting along with it your expressions. When you wanted to appear older, it was often a matter of allowing the weight of your memories to reach your eyes. Dying your hair to make it look like you are dying your hair to hide the greying... making it more obvious that you were doing physical fitness such as body-building, so that people would think you were trying to hang on to your youth. Keeping himself active enough to fight any Immortals that might wander through that he could not avoid.

Now, here he was on an adventure to try and reconnect with the man who on more than one occasion had tried to kill him. Why, he was not sure, but he knew one thing: Duncan Macleod deserved to know the truth. He deserved to know that he had not murdered Richie Ryan.

He sat down and did his morning paperwork, greeting both Manuel and Mike as they came in to start their days. He assigned them out a couple of bikes apiece. They were continuously busy, especially now that it was mid-June. The few bikers who actually stored their bikes during the winter were getting them checked up for the summer, and those who rode them all of the time were having them re-tuned.

After he had finished the morning paperwork, Rick called Marcus. He wanted to find out if things had been resolved on his end, and tell him about Damien. He was hoping that Marcus would not be angry about Rick's taking his head. No matter the consequences the deed was done, and he should tell the man.

After three rings, Marcus' secretary Tasha picked up the phone. Rick identified himself and she put him on hold. He often wondered what she thought his and Marcus' relationship was. She knew he was not a client, but perhaps thought her boss had an obsession with motorcycles. Either way, Marcus paid her not to ask questions about his life, so she did not.

Marcus came on the line, his tone cautiously friendly. "Rick, I was wondering if I'd hear from you anytime soon."

"It's nice to hear your voice and know you're still alive and kicking, Marcus." Marcus grunted into the phone, but did not say anything. Rick tried a little cautiously, "Have you caught this guy Edward, yet?"

"No, I was close, I think he's gone underground. Do you think your friend Jeff could find out if he's left the city? He seems to have a knack for getting that kind of information."  
"Probably, I'll get him on it this afternoon. Marcus, have you ever heard of a Damien Leadholm?"

Marcus swore in a language Rick did not know and said urgently, "The man is a killer. If you see him again, don't listen to anything he has to say, just kill him."

"Already done. It seems he thought he had some unfinished business with you, and while trying to get that unfinished business solved he happened to step on my toes. I cut off his head last night."

There was just a beat of, Rick imagined, surprised silence. Then Marcus said, "Good. That is one less piece of trash floating around this world pretending to play God."

"Agreed. Look, I have a business to run, and a couple more phone calls to make. I'll call you back, or send Jeff over, if he can find anything out."

"The help would be appreciated. Thank you, my friend."

"No problem."

Rick set the receiver down and smiled to himself, feeling a strange wave of nostalgia as he thought about what Marcus had said. He had called him a friend. As he thought back on his time in Florida, he realized that he had made more friends than he had allowed himself to believe.

There was Jeff, of course, in all his craziness. Lisa, the bartender he always visited on Friday nights when he had no clients. A good number of former clients probably qualified as friends. Manuel and Mike often went to the bar with him as well. He knew their wives, and in Manuel's case, had been to his oldest daughter's wedding. Though he wanted to visit Paris again and make things right with Mac, he was not prepared to leave here quite yet. Not for good, anyway. He had too much of a life here and would not become Mac's protégé again. He was his own person now. A businessman in his own right and that was an achievement he had made on his own.

Now was the time for making amends and filling in the gaps, but it was not the time for leaving. He could probably pull off another ten years here. Now was the time for making something that you already had even better than it was, and that was what Rick intended to do. He hit the speed dial on his cell phone and waited for Jeff to pick up.

"Hey boss, what's up?"

"Marcus says this Edward guy's gone underground. Think you can find him and tell Marcus where he is?"

"I'm not supposed to tell Marcus stuff, only you. But I can tell you where he is." Jeff managed to sound both put upon and pleased.

Rick sighed and rolled his eyes, "Okay, fine, whatever, just let me know today, will you?"

"Sure, oh impatient and testy one."

"Hey, I'm in a good mood today, I'll have you know."

Jeff laughed, "So what's on your mind then?"

"Just how I hope you know, and Em knows, I'm not planning on staying in Paris."

"Yes! That is officially the best news I've heard all day!" Jeff crowed.

"Why are you so excited about that, anyway?"

"Because that means I can start taking Photography classes at the Miami Art Institution when we get back. You know: up my game."

"Don't want to live in Paris, huh?"

"Rick, I don't speak French and Parisians don't like Americans anymore. So no, visiting is fun, it's something new, I can explore, use up a couple of memory cards in my camera, and then come back to my home and figure out my life. Speaking of Paris, have you decided when we're leaving yet?"

"No, it's kind of up to Amanda to tell you the truth. I think she's enjoying the sun a little too much to want to leave right away. We could be looking at July before either one of them is up for a change. The two haven't spent this much time together for over fifty years. I think they are partially catching up. It's one of the reasons that you haven't heard a word from her, except for our usual dinner dates. To be honest, I've seen almost as little of her as you have. Sad fact of life, we are replaceable by best friends."

"That's the truth. Okay, well keep me informed. I mean I kind of want to register for a couple of classes, but if we are going to be late getting back to the states... I may have to wait until next semester."

"It's not going to be that long, Jeff, so quit worrying, and make sure you find out about Edward. I need to make another phone call."

"In other words, quit yapping and start working. Got ya. I'll call you later, if I can find anything out."

"Sounds good Jeff, see you later!"

Rick hung up the phone and then began to dig in his desk. The number he was searching for was hiding in there somewhere. There was, of course, the off chance it was not good anymore. Rick had not called it since he graduated college four years ago and well, the owner liked to disappear. Not that Rick blamed him. If he was as old, he would want to make sure he could not be found out by the bad guys, too. At the bottom of the drawer, he finally found the book he was looking for. It was an old address book that he used to carry in college. It had a lot of random numbers in it. Most of them were no longer valid, but on the back inside cover, simple labeled under M, he had stashed Methos' number. He had always thought that Methos was an odd guy. He seemed too young sometimes to be as old as he said he was, but that was part of his charm. It was also part of how he survived. He was more devious than anyone Rick had ever met, and he had met some pretty devious people in South America.

He dialed the number and held his breath. The phone actually began to ring. It only made it through two rounds before the old man's voice came on, sounding rough. "Hello?"

Rick spoke past a sudden lump in his throat. "Hey old timer, how are you?"

"I was better a minute ago, while I was sleeping. What do you want?" came the cross reply. That was the thing about Methos. He could get very grumpy if you interrupted him at the wrong time.

Rick found himself smiling. It may have seemed long to him since they had spoken, but to Methos it must feel like only yesterday. "Sorry, didn't know it was night time where you are. I'll call back later, when would be good?"

Rick heard Methos sigh on the other end of the phone, "Rick, you haven't called in four years. Whatever it is you want to ask me is going to bug me more if I have to wait for it, than if you just ask me now, and let me go back to sleep knowing I've solved the problem."

The smile blossomed into a grin at how wrong he was. "I just wanted to know if you'd come to Paris with us around July. I'm going to tell Mac the truth."

A small noise like a snort graced his ear, and Rick covered his mouth to keep back a laugh. Methos said, "You're serious, aren't you? Fourteen years of pretending to be dead, and now all of a sudden you've decided to reenter the Immortal world. What's changed?"

"I met Emerald."

"Ah. Yes, that would do it." Amusement was strong in Methos' voice.

"Were you in love with her once?" Rick felt compelled to ask, a vague discomfort in his stomach.

Methos' casual reply put him at ease. "Me, no. Emmy has always been more like the little sister I never wanted than anything else. No, but Fitzcairn was in love with her. There were times I almost thought that if Emmy had shown some interest, he would have married her."

"No way!" Rick laughed.

"He wasn't the sort to settle down with another Immortal, but she was special to him. Tell me, how does Emmy feel about you? She's never been one to fall for Immortals. Actually, she hardly ever fell for anyone for more than a couple of years."

"She told me that. I think, though, I'm not positive, that she loves me as much as I love her. She's changed, too. I think finally marrying someone changed her."

Methos' tone acquired a dark note. "From what I heard, and what I followed, by the end she was simply waiting for him to die."

"That doesn't mean it didn't change her. Or am I still the same over-eager gullible Immortal you met in Seacover in '96?"  
"No, it's true, you have both changed quite a bit since the first time I met you. Very well then, it's been about a year since I visited Duncan, and if we are going to throw an Immortal party, I might as well be there to make sure the beer stays fresh."

Rick laughed, "Good, I will be excited to see you."

The past few days had blended together for Emmy. She had not really allowed herself to have this much down time in years. It was nice to just kick back and have fun, but at the same time she was beginning to miss Rick quite a bit. It was wonderful to see Amanda, but she still wanted to spend time with her new boyfriend.

Boyfriend was such a lame word. How did you describe the beginning of a romance, though? Especially one you were hoping might potentially last forever? Immortality opened up the amount of time one had to spend. Emmy had found it a pain, and as she had told Rick, she was not planning-or rather expecting, in all honesty-to be the last Immortal standing, she just wanted to enjoy the ride as long as she could. Enjoying the ride now meant spending time with Rick. Richie had been his name before he "died". The one he was born with. Well, Richard, but that did not seem to fit him at all. Richard was much too formal for the laid-back and soft-spoken Rick. Now that she thought about it, Rick seemed to fit him better than his name from before. The Cloud part was kind of silly, but she got it. It was his way of holding onto Duncan MacLeod when he thought that part of his life was over. He wanted to make sure that at least he never forgot his teacher. Even after everything he had been through, and all the ways he had tried to run away, he still felt a great deal of respect and appreciation for his teacher. He might even still love Duncan as a father or an older brother.

The interesting thing was, he was not like Duncan at all. He was his own person from start to finish. He had recreated himself since he knew Duncan. Amanda had said that herself. She had said she could not believe the change in him. He was cultured. He knew about things. He could talk about almost any subject with some authority, and his life went beyond being Duncan's MacLeod's financial advisor, something Emmy had to stop herself from laughing at when her own teacher told her about it.

Amanda had said she remembered Richie being a skirt chaser and a little naive. Now she thought he was brilliant. "I still can't believe the difference fourteen years can make in a person. I mean, look at you and me. It's taken the two of us centuries to grow up and change, but Richie-I mean Rick-he's a whole new person. Sometimes, I would think he was boring. This flirty little boy who sort of helicoptered around Duncan, and now he's pretty impressive. I mean he still loves motorcycles, but he is just a charmer. He's so good at carrying his own in a conversation, now."

"You know Amanda, some people just need to get out on their own and do their own thing, and then they figure out how much potential they have and go for it. I think that's what Rick did. I think he went after his dreams."

"What's your dream Emmy? That's what I want to know. I mean, do you really want to live such a boring life?" Amanda took Emmy's hands and looked at her, "I mean you know he's going to want to stay down here and run this little bike shop for as long as he can get away with it. Do you really want to be the wife of a mechanic?"

"I never said I was going to marry him Amanda."  
"No, but you want to stay for him don't you?"

"Amanda, I'm not you. I still like to break into places and steal things on rare occasions, but being married to David made me appreciate the simple life. You have no idea how much fun you can have just looking at the things around you until you try. Rick does that. He actually stops to look at the setting sun every day. He likes to drive through the rain. I want someone who can look out at the world and appreciate every detail, like they would a painting."

"And you really think Rick is that person?"

"Yes, I really do."

"You have changed," Amanda let go of Emmy's hands and went over to grab a glass of wine. "There was a time, I remember, when you wouldn't have thought twice about walking away from another Immortal after only a night."

Emmy grinned. "There was a time you would never have spent three years straight acting as the agent for three stuck-up beauty queens."

Amanda lifted her lip in disgust, "Sometimes, I still don't think it's worth it."

"Yes you do. You love your job. You get too many free gifts from designers not to like your job." Emmy pointed to the diamond bracelet on Amanda's wrist.

"Okay, you're right. In some ways it sure beats stealing. I mean, come on, who would have thought you could make this much money legally for calling and setting up a few appointments."

Emmy laughed, "You are amazing."

"By the way, what on earth possessed you to work in a bookstore?"

"It's quiet, the people who come into bookstores are more intelligent on the whole, and they have excellent coffee that I get for free anytime I want it."

Amanda's eyes twinkled. "Not to mention you can buy any book you want."

"Nothing wrong with reading," Emmy replied with mock haughtiness.

"Except you can't put down anything written by Castle, Patterson, or Robb."

"Yeah, but now I get forty-five percent off on them, so it doesn't break my wallet! Only buying shoes does that now."

"That isn't even a concern for me." Amanda smiled, "Now, can we get out of this house and go soak up the beach? I haven't seen this many good looking men in a long time."

"Amanda!"

"Just because I'm taken Emmy, doesn't mean I'm dead. Besides, I'm just looking."

Emmy rolled her eyes, "I don't know why you'd want to look when you've got a guy that's as sexy as Duncan."

"Emmy!" Amanda scolded, but giggled.

"I'm just telling the truth."

"Yeah, well keep that to yourself or I might tell Rick."

Emmy shrugged, "Competition is good for them. It makes them work harder for what they want."

Just as they were about to head out the door, Amanda's phone rang. She looked at it and sighed, "Jorge, Como estas, me amor?"

"Bien, pero Amanda quiero saber por que estas en los estados unidos, cuando quiero que tus chicas va a estar en mi show?"

"Estoy aqui para relajarme antes que el dia de tu show? No es por dos mas semanas verdad?"

"Si, pero necesito empesar organizando el orden por las chicas, y no puedo hacerlo sin tuyos.

"Esta bien Jorge, me voy a regresar pronto okay?"

"En cuanto dias?"

"Como quarto o cinco, depende en los que van a regresar conmigo."

"Bueno, entonces les vi en algunos dias."

"Okay, Jorge hasta luego."

Emmy lifted an eyebrow as Amanda hung up, "What was that about?"

"Oh, Jorge is just being difficult, that's all. Let's hit the beaches."

Emmy did not move, "Are we really leaving in four or five days?" She had, after all, understood the conversation.

Amanda shrugged, "I think we should discuss that with everyone over dinner."


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 31

The gang met up at the local "old peoples" restaurant; a buffet called Sweet Tomatoes. It had a pleasant atmosphere, and the food was all very healthy as well as good. Rick liked it because it was healthy for you and delicious. He believed that these two things did not often come together. He was a firm believer in the Savage Garden line "I believe that junk food tastes so good because it's bad for you." Sweet Tomatoes was another story entirely. He had first come to eat here when one of his clients, a girl named Desiree, had decided to move out of state. She had asked him do background checks on four or five different guys, Rick never did find out why. However, she was also a health nut, and so had taken him and Jeff out for a goodbye dinner. After that, they were hooked, and anytime they had a client who was over thirty-five come into the shop, they took them to eat at Sweet Tomatoes.*

As they sat down to dinner, Amanda was the first to speak, "I'm actually surprised you guys would pick a place this... healthy. I always remember you being more of a hotdog and peanuts kind of guy."

Rick laughed, "I still am a hotdog guy, but you know traveling around the world expands your view of food."

"Tomorrow you should make him cook," interjected Jeff, "He makes some of the most amazing Hispanic food I've ever tasted, and I grew up in a mostly Hispanic neighborhood, so I know Hispanic food."

Amanda looked shocked, "You've learned how to cook, too?"

Rick smiled, and shrugged, his eyes twinkling. "I'm sure all Immortals do at some point. It's either that or eat nothing but frozen foods and well, that gets really expensive outside the States."

"True," she replied, then changed the subject, "I have a question for all of you. How do you feel about leaving for Paris on Monday? One of the guys who often employs my three beautiful models wants me back in town to help supervise the girls while he gets everything ready for his show, so I need to get back."

The men exchanged glances, and then Jeff spoke, "Okay, so I know the three of you are loaded, but even if I can get reimbursed by the Watchers, I still have to buy my ticket first, and last minute overseas tickets are not what I'd call cheap." He wore a pained expression as he thought about the likely price of a ticket.

Rick elbowed him. "I'll pay for it, Jeff. You know that's not a problem. You're only going because of me, anyway."

"Well, then I don't really have a reason to say no. Marcus is going to nail that Immortal serial killer, probably tonight, and that's on his Watcher to record. So I'm open until August. Oh, and Rick, I'm not just going because of you, I'm also going to get some more practice."

Emmy nodded, "Nothing's stopping me either; I really don't work that many hours at the bookshop anyway. I can tell Steven I'm leaving town and he'll just give away my hours. There are tons of other people who want them. That just leaves you, Rick. Are you going to be able to wrap things up with your store by Monday?"

He gave her a particularly warm smile. "I should be able to. Mike and Manuel both have their own keys, it's not like I worry about them ripping me off. I'll let them know I'm taking some time off. I think it may give Mike a heart attack."

The other three laughed, and the conversation began to wander off to other subjects. Rick stayed quiet for a while, thinking about how crazy it was that he was going to see Mac so soon, after all this time away. Tomorrow, he would have to call Joe.

Jeff started packing the moment he got home. He knew he had several days before they left, but he was forgetful, and wanted to get a head start. The last thing he wanted to do was arrive at the airport without his passport, or worse, without his camera.

He loved his camera the way some people love their dogs. It was like his pet. It even had a name, though no one else knew that. He knew sometimes Rick thought he was nuts the way he handled it, but then Rick really had no room to talk in Jeff's eyes. He was just as obsessed, if not more, with motorcycles. After all, the man owned about five, and he made his living fixing other peoples'. If that was not an obsession, Jeff didn't know what was.

He only had two cameras; Betsy, his baby, and Ralph the outcast. Ralph had been bought right after he turned eighteen. It was an old digital camera that could not even use a card bigger than a 2G, and did not work well without really good lighting. Yet Jeff could not bear to get rid of it. It had been the first digital camera he ever owned; it carried some really fond memories. Like the scrapbooking class he took at the college. Every girl in that class had thought he was gay. Since he had not found any of them extremely attractive, he had played along. He learned a lot about girls during that class, including some things he really had not wanted to know, that contradicted long-held prejudices. He also learned that women who like to scrapbook often know more about cameras then men who like gadgets.

It was through these girls that Jeff had found his first camera store, and from there he had gone through two or three cameras until he found Betsy. She was his dream camera. He could do every affect he wanted with the camera itself. It had seven different detachable lenses to deal with different lighting, distances, and types of photos. She was the queen of all cameras, and she was the first thing Jeff packed. Then he started packing everything else.

For some reason, he really did not want to look like a regular American for this trip. He wanted to look like he was somebody. Oh, not for any reason in particular, but because he had fun with things like that. It was what made him such a good actor. He had taken theatre all four years of high school and college, and had done a year of community theatre as well. After that, he got too busy with his three different jobs. Now, as he was going to France, he wanted all that acting to be put to use. He wanted to look like he belonged on the side of the runway, shooting photos of pretty, scantily clad women.

As he looked at his wardrobe, he realized that if he were to manage that, he was going to need some help. He pushed the three on his speed dial, and was not surprised when Emmy picked up after only a ring.

"I just saw you, what's up?" she asked in a slightly scolding tone.

"I need some fashion help."

"Okay, what do you want?" Emmy was immediately interested.

"I want you to come over and tell what I should pack to look like a professional photographer."

She laughed, "That's not really my forte. How about I ask Amanda to come with me, and she can give you some tips?"

"Sounds good. If anyone will know how they dress over there, it'll be the woman who works in the industry."

*This story and many of the descriptions of Fort Myers are taken from my own life. I lived there for about 5 months, and I think it's my favorite city in the world. I am not sure I'd live there full time ever again, but I would kill to visit again.


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 32

"I'm actually kind of shocked that you have a full suit," Amanda said as she dug through Jeff's closet. "And that all of your clothes, except those you've worn in the last three days, are clean. Most single men living on their own aren't that good at taking care of themselves."

Jeff responded slightly sheepishly, "I wasn't raised the way most people were. My mother, if she even was my mother, I don't even know, was a drunk and a crack addict. I spent most of my time with my friends, and like I said at dinner, they were all pretty much Hispanic or Haitian. I speak both pretty well. Anyway, I was taught by the mothers of many of these friends how to take care of myself. They'd often come over with me to my house in the afternoons. My mother would be passed out in the house somewhere, and we'd just grab the laundry and take it out and clean it. I was able to do my own laundry by the time I finished kindergarten."

Amanda had stopped as she listened and was looking over her shoulder at him, eyes dark and solemn. "Wow, sounds like you had a great childhood."

He shrugged. "No worse than a lot of kids in that part of Miami. It's just the way things are in big cities. Rick grew up about the same way. That's probably why we're such good friends. Although Rick says that I'm the stronger person, because I made a better person of myself without anyone's help. I don't agree with him, though. I think I was made a better person by the twenty or so Hispanic women that I still refer to as Madre. They took in this little white boy and called him son. It was the best."

Amanda dug back into the closest, then popped out, grinning as she held up a pair of pants and a shirt. "You want stuff like this."

Jeff gave her a weird look, "You're kidding right?"

She shook her head, "Nope, this is really close to what most of them wear."

"Amanda, I wear that for my league golf group with the Watchers..."

She shrugged at him. "Hey, you asked. Besides, you really don't have anything else that doesn't scream 'I'm a rich American brat trying to seem cool in Europe.'"

Emmy, who had been leaning in the doorframe listening to the them as they talked, announced cheerfully, "I say we just go shopping when we get to Paris."

Jeff rolled his eyes, uncomfortable with the idea. "With what money? Rick is buying my way over, remember."

Amanda grinned evilly. "We don't need money. You forget I have major ties in the fashion world. I can get you everything you need." She loved playing dress up with just about anyone.

The days to prepare to leave for Paris passed too quickly for Jeff. He was excited to travel, but he was also nervous. He was uncertain why he felt that way. He was not the one telling someone he had not seen for fourteen years that he was still alive. He was just going so he could record it in the chronicles of Immortal history. This was not even his first trip to Paris. He had gone there once before to talk to Joe, and get his help and sanction to create the Servants.

This would be his first trip going as a photographer though, and it was probably this that made a difference. He had taken some shots of historical sites the last time he visited, but they were not professional ones; they were personal ones. Now he was going with the eye of someone trying to sell the photos he would take.

The last three days had afforded him tremendous publicity, as he received the Grand Prize on one of the photos he had submitted to a photography contest. Another two had placed in different divisions. Jeff thought of himself as not like most people. He did not just take certain types of pictures; such as landscapes or animals. He took all kinds of pictures, and he enjoyed looking at all kinds of pictures. His artwork was as eclectic as his lifestyle.

Now that he was leaving for Paris, his thousand-dollar camera in hand, with tons of people waiting for him to bring back photos, he was scared that this might not go quite as well as he hoped. Nevertheless, he was bound to see it through. He had wanted to be a photographer for years, and now he had the opportunity to really shine. He looked through his list one more time and realized that he had everything he needed. Just as he finished this, he heard a knock at the door. That would be Rick coming to pick him up for their drive to the airport. It was time for a new chapter to unfold in their lives.


	33. Chapter 33

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 33

Rick smiled as he watched Jeff with his camera. He had the window seat, which Rick was happy about. The kid could take pictures looking down at the world spread below him. Plus, it was a good excuse for Rick to not have to sit in the window seat. Emmy was sitting across the aisle from him, and he could not help but stare at her for a moment. Somehow, she managed to look beautiful just sitting in an airplane. He could not believe even now that someone as extraordinary as she was found him worth her interest. He also could not believe he was dating someone this old. Emmy was everything he had ever wanted. She was kind, thoughtful, and expressive. She understood about passion and drive, and she did not mind waiting when there was stuff he really was not ready to talk about. She let him be himself, no judgments, and no preconceptions. He wondered if that was because she was an Immortal, or because she was Emmy. Either way, she made him happier than anyone in his short life.

She must have felt his eyes on her, because she turned to look at him from across the aisle. 'What?' she mouthed with a smile on her face.

He shook his head. How could he tell her that he was just admiring everything about her? It was wonderful to have her and Jeff on this journey. He felt like he was going back in time. It was a weird, surreal feeling to be flying back to Paris after all these years away. He thought back to what had made him leave. How he had felt. How angry, scared, and alone he had been. Methos had actually been his savior then.

 _Paris, France Middle of 1997_

Richie hung up the phone and started toward the empty building. He was determined to help Mac stop this demon at all costs. As he ran in, he saw Mac being circled by some of his greatest foes... and by himself... and attacking them wildly. This froze him for a moment. Mac's flashing katana did not seem to touch any of them. He was just about to step forward and help when another Horton stood beside him. The man's oily voice said, "I'd wait if I was you."

At that moment, steel came in contact with flesh, and one of the ghosts went down. It was himself. Richie stared as the Quickening rose and engulfed Mac.

Horton smirked at him nastily. "You see Richie, Mac wants you dead. He's tired of having to take care of you. Are you really going to let him kill you? This isn't your fight. Walk away and it will all be over for you."

He knew, now, that this was not Horton. Horton was dead and this was a demon. He wavered in confused fear. "I can't! Mac is my friend! He needs me to defeat you."

"If you stay in this, Richie, next time I'll make sure Mac is so confused that it really is you lying on the ground. I can do that you know. It would be so easy. Instead, all you have to do is leave. Just walk out now, and you can live and Mac can fight this battle the way he's supposed to, just him against me." The tone was no less oily, a nasty smirk on the fake face of Horton.

Richie wanted to argue, but his self-preservation was beginning to kick in. This was not the first time Mac had almost killed him. He was sure that the demon was telling the truth, and this time it would not be on purpose. He nodded, his knees trembling. "Okay, I'm gone. Mac doesn't need my help. He can do this on his own." He faced the Horton-faced demon, "He will defeat you."

"I don't think so," it sneered.

Richie turned and fled towards the door, and almost ran into Joe and Methos. He pulled them aside, "Joe, Adam, I don't know who he killed today, but it wasn't me. But when you get up there, it's going to look like me. Please, Joe, play along with it. I need to leave."

The two men nodded, and moved past Richie, hurrying toward MacLeod. When Joe saw the body on the floor, he began to cry. Richie found himself uncertain if Joe was just faking, or if he was not sure he was in his right mind. Either way, he could not take anymore. He left the building as quickly as he could.

He went to his apartment and started packing. He did not know what to do, but he knew that this time he was leaving Paris for good, or at least for this lifetime. That was when he decided he would ask Methos for help. If anyone could help him, it was the old-timer. After all, he was one of the most deceptive men that Richie had ever met.

He felt a hand touch his shoulder, bringing him back from his memories to the present. It was Jeff, who said with concern, "You look nervous."

Rick considered the drawn look on Jeff's face and countered gently, "So do you, and you're not even facing something that's been sitting left undone for fourteen years."

Jeff laughed wryly. "Nah, I'm just taking pictures. I've even taken a few in Paris before. Not of a professional standard, but not bad. Even if I do say so myself."

"When did you take pictures in Paris before?"

"When I met Joe Dawson. Back before I ever became your Watcher."

Rick nodded, "Ah, of course, I forgot you'd been here before."

"Yup, and I loved every second of it. Well, except for the snooty people who wouldn't talk to me once they realized I was American. Oh, and of course the cab drivers, but that goes without saying. All cab drivers suck."

It was Rick's turn to laugh. Jeff certainly had a unique perspective. It was part of his charm. "Your view of the world kills me, you know that?"

"Yeah, well everyone's thinking it. I just say it. That's the only difference."

"It's in the way you say it, Jeff, like you are the authority."

"You never know Rick, maybe I am. I've had some wild, troubled teen years of my own, you know. We just don't talk about my past as much."

Rick considered him carefully, their long Watcher-Immortal relationship had mostly skated the shallows. He asked, "Jeff, did the Watchers save you?"

"What?" Jeff looked confused.

"Did the Watchers save you?" Rick asked again, looking intently at him.

"I guess so. Them and about twenty Hispanic and Haitian mothers, who felt the need to take care of me when my own mother wouldn't. Why the sudden interest?"

Rick shook his head. "It's hard to explain. Don't worry about it."

The rest of the plane ride was silent. Both men were thinking about how things would be when they finally landed in Paris.


	34. Chapter 34

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 34

Almost a day later, with all the time changes included, the four of them finally landed in Paris. They were surprised but excited when they left the airport and found Methos, waiting for them near a black Suburban. "Well, here we have a motley crew don't we? Three Immortals and a Watcher, and a most esteemed Watcher at that," he said. As he spoke, his regular whimsical grin appeared.

"I thought Joe was going to meet us today," Rick replied, grabbing Methos' arm in affectionate greeting.

Methos ducked his chin and raised it again. He said solemnly, "Joe doesn't do much walking anymore, Rich. I got into town last night, so he asked if I'd be willing to come and get you."

Rick nodded, "I guess that makes sense. Should I start the introductions, or would you like to introduce yourself?"

"Well, the only one I haven't met, I still know about, and that's Mr. Jeff Read," Methos held out his hand, "Methos, at your service. Isn't that something, using my real name."

Jeff's shocked sway was visible before he got himself under control and took the proffered hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, after hearing so much about you."

"The pleasure's mine. You've done the world a great favor by reorganizing the Watchers. We owe you a debt of gratitude."

Amanda was laughing softly, for Emmy's mouth hung open in shock. Methos grinned at her. "Emmy."

She whipped her head around to stare at Richie. He gave her a helpless shrug and said, "He told me he knew you."

Methos began to walk cheerfully around to the driver's side of the car. He called back over his shoulder, "Okay everyone, follow me, the Sub needs filling."

"You know, I should be getting paid for this party," Joe said. He was actually walking today, which surprised and delighted everyone. Even Emmy, who was meeting him for the first time. "I am after all, supplying the refreshments, and closing my doors for the night, just so all of you guys can play catch-up."

Rick pulled out a folio and handed it to Joe with great respect. "That, my friend, is for a whole lot more than tonight. Just think of it as pay on my tab with interest over the past fourteen years. I owe you a lot more."

Methos smiled contentedly at the two. "I think someone came into money down in South America. I didn't think I'd ever get paid back. Didn't care, really. And then you paid me after three years down there, with interest. Now, you're paying Joe too. How did such a young Immortal get so much money?" he teased.

Rick smiled, "That is one of the secrets that I will never tell you. Amanda, can you call a caterer for tonight? The best one you can find. Haggle with them, but don't really worry about price."

Amanda smiled and purred, "I know just the one. I'll see you all here at five. I have a Scotsman to get in the mood for a party."

"Good luck," the others chorused as she headed out the door.

"Why, on the first night you're back, do we have to go to a party at Joe's? Why couldn't you have just invited Emmy over here?" Duncan asked as he adjusted his tie into place and frowned grouchily into the mirror.

"Because, it's not just Emmy who is here to visit; it's her boyfriend Rick, and their Watcher Jeff, oh, and Methos has flown in for the occasion, too."

Duncan looked surprised. "Methos? He's in town and he didn't call?"

"Oops. It was supposed to be part of the surprise," she smiled at him, with an all-too familiar pure transparency that told him she was hiding something. He frowned at her, but she patted his shoulders soothingly. "Now why don't you just be a good boy and enjoy dinner. I've got a great surprise for you, and I promise I'll make it up to you tonight when we come home." She kissed him fiercely on the lips.

He sighed and put his trust in her. "Well, I guess when you put it like that, I can go."

"Good," she said, and they headed out the door.

Duncan was nervous at the feel of so many Immortals as he walked towards Joe's bar with Amanda holding his arm. He took it slowly, wanting to count the separate impacts rather than have them blur together. One for Methos, one for Emmy, one for the mysterious Rick Cloud... Someone had remembered to called Donovin, and he was just entering when Duncan called out to him to hold the door. Donovin braced the door for Duncan and Amanda, watching their faces with an all-seeing eye.

And so the first person Duncan saw wiped his awareness of everyone else out. The shock seemed to fracture him. "Richie?" he asked in stunned shock.

Amanda's left arm came about his waist tightly. She put her right around his chest and pressed her body against his side, a sheet of warmth in the caroling shock. "It's him, Mac. It's him. He's real."

"Hey Mac," Richie said thickly, and stood up and came to greet him.


	35. Chapter 35

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 35

Duncan and Amanda felt the buzz, and woke from a deep sleep. It was early morning, and after staying out late last night, they were not prepared for company. Duncan grabbed his robe and sword and went out onto the deck. There, standing on the shore, was Richie... or Rick, as he was now calling himself.

Having spent the evening before flooding his senses with Rick's presence, it was no longer a mind-shattering shock, and he could smile, even if it was wobbly. "It's a bit early for a visit," he said, leaning his sword against the barge and folding his arms loosely.

Rick shrugged, "I couldn't sleep, so I figured now was as good a time as any to come bother you." He held up a bottle. It was an old vintage, from decades before he was born. "I thought we could share a drink. Permission to come on board?"

Duncan smiled at the joke, but it also jarred him. Never before the mess with Ahriman would Richie have asked to come onto the barge. "Sure," Duncan said, blinking rapidly and feeling tears escape him, "You know you are always welcome."

Rick nodded and climbed onto the deck. He handed Duncan the bottle. Duncan's eyes went wide as he recognized it, "This is..."

"Yup," Richie said smiling.

"How did you-"

"I searched really hard," Rick interrupted with a grin.

They went and sat at the table on deck together. Neither one of them spoke for a long time. They just sat, passing the bottle back and forth and watching the sunrise.

Finally, Duncan had to ask the question that had been bothering him all night. "Why?" he almost whispered.

"So many reasons, Mac," Rick told him. He shuddered and his mental age seemed to unfold before Duncan's eyes. He looked all the years older. "At first, I was scared and angry, like I was after the Dark Quickening, even when you gave me Graham Ashe's sword. Then, I felt guilty because I wasn't the best person for a while. I wasn't the kind of person you would be proud to call your student... Then, time passed, and I created my own life. I became my own person, not just your shadow."

A wave of confused pain washed through Duncan. "You were never my shadow, Richie, you were my friend," he told him, reaching out to lay his right hand on Rick's left shoulder.

Richie... Rick sighed, not pulling away but not looking at Duncan either. "That's how you felt about the situation. It's not how I felt. So I left. After a while, telling the truth just seemed harder and harder. After all, staying away had been so easy. I might never have come back at all if it weren't for Emmy. If she hadn't been Amanda's student, and just as much of a pain in the ass..." he trailed off, and took a long drink from the bottle before handing it back to Duncan.

"I'll have to thank her then," Duncan said, forcing himself to stop touching Rick.

Rick nodded, then looked straight at him. "Sorry, Mac."

"Me too."

There was a long silence again. Duncan could feel himself letting go of all of the pain. Here was Richie, safe and whole. He was living his own life. A life he seemed to love, with friends. Good friends, from what Duncan had seen. He looked at Rick and smiled. "You've changed a lot."

Richie's return smile did not quite reach his eyes. "I had to. I think that's a lesson Immortals all have to learn, sooner or later. I just learned sooner. It should make the next move smoother, when Emmy and I are ready to make it. Hopefully, Jeff will come too, by then."

"He seems to be a good kid," Duncan told him, "Does he know?"

Richie shook his head, "No, and I'm not telling him either."

Duncan nodded again, "I made the same call."

"It was a good call."

For the third time there was silence. This time it was more comfortable. Both men were accepting what had happened. After all, when it came to immortality, what was fourteen years between friends? Duncan and Connor had gone longer without contacting each other. It would work out. These things usually did, as long as their heads stayed attached to their shoulders.


	36. Chapter 36

Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Big Huge Shout Outs to the best Beta in the whole wide world, sillivan! I love you so much! Thank you for making this book so much better. It was a pleasure working with you.

Epilogue

"I expect you to come to Fort Myers for Thanksgiving," Rick told MacLeod as he, Emmy, and Jeff were getting out of the car at the airport. "Bring Joe, Amanda, and the old man, if you can wrangle him into it."

"We'll be there," Duncan told him, a slight catch in his throat. "All of us. And you are coming here for Christmas. I have to introduce you to Gina and Robert. Oh, and they'll want to see Emmy again too, of course."

"Only if the invite includes Jeff," Rick said firmly.

"They put up with Donovin last year, and Jeff's more fun," Duncan replied.

"Right then, I guess we'll see you in a few months," Rick said.

"Count on it," Duncan replied.

Jeff coughed in an expressive way, and Rick glared at him. He swung his attention back to Duncan, "The non-natives are getting restless."

"Have a safe flight," Duncan said, and shifted the car back into drive as Rick backed up from the window.

Jeff laid a hand on Rick's shoulder. "Think he's going to forgive Joe and Methos?"

Rick smiled. The old Duncan might have brooded about that for months. This was not the old Duncan. It was not only Rick who had changed in the last fourteen years. "Yeah, they'll be fine by Thanksgiving, if not sooner."

Jeff nodded, "Right then, let's get on that plane."

Emmy laughed, "Excited to get home, Jeff?"

Jeff smiled at her and nodded, "Paris is just not my home."

"Mine either," Rick said as he clapped his hand on Jeff's back then let go and grabbed his luggage. He wrapped his other arm around Emmy and led his team inside. "Let's go home."

The End


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